


Cold Hands, Warm Heart

by symphonyofmars



Category: Captain Marvel (2019), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Angst, Assault, Existential Crisis, F/M, Fashion & Couture, Fluff, I wasn't even planning for one, I wear so much red because I think the workers should control the means of production, Loki and the Reader are fashionistas, Smut, Ugh, XReader, also, and at least one scene when they do the do, and smoochy scenes, because I like describing them, breadtube thoughts, but like, economic angst, hope you like hearing about clothes, it has ten chapters already, it's existential angst, just saying, listen; just because the movie has an opinion doesn't mean it's the correct opinion, now I need to research how to write those scenes all over again, now my compulsion dictates it needs a plot, seriously though I have spent too much time on it, this fic might make more sense if you're in your 30s, this is just more of an AU now
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-28
Updated: 2019-08-05
Packaged: 2019-08-09 03:38:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 21
Words: 88,926
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16442276
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/symphonyofmars/pseuds/symphonyofmars
Summary: Edited 1/20/19:As many of my fics have started, this one started with a dream that was so bizzare that I had to write it down. Writing down the dream then sparked the part of my brain that compulsively needs to create, and it was like I was snatched up by a muse, stuffed into a rickety wagon and sent jolting down the dirt road to Writing Town with no way to get out.This fic takes place in some weird space after Infinity War in which Loki didn’t die and had just faked his death AGAIN, because I refuse to believe he’s dead.Also, I headcanon Loki as being a fashionista and liking people who are also well-dressed. I mean, you don’t “dress like a witch” without a great sense of style.This was my 2018 NaNo.





	1. Chapter 1

To say that you were feeling yourself today would have been a complete understatement. You had the whole goth witch look down – a wine-colored wide brimmed wool hat that matched your also wine-colored short shorts, black leggings that had the Death tarot card printed on them in white screen-print, a black crop top that had a white screen print of the sun and moon, a black mesh kimono style robe, a leather bag with long fringe, and the black-with-wooden-heel Jeffery Campbells that you blew part of your last paycheck on in a frightening display of “TREAT YO’ SELF” that had you cackling as you clicked the ‘order’ button, and then sighing to get up and get your credit card because it was the first thing you ever ordered from the site. Your let your hair air dry into a style befitting a witch of the moors, and your makeup was so on point it could have become sentient and stabbed someone all on its own. Speaking of looks, your look was such a look that it transcended straight into a LÜK.

If someone asked if maybe, just possibly, you had binge-watched all of emelia fart’s and John Maclean’s YouTube videos the night before and found a kindred spirit in the sheet dress wearing and ‘seemlessness’ icons, and you said no, it would have been a lie. But you wouldn’t have said no, because icons don’t lie. Except when they do, but this wouldn’t have been something to lie about. A real lie would be if someone asked if you enjoyed your boring-ass office job – days of sitting on your ass until both cheeks were numb, making calls to people you didn’t care to talk to about things you didn’t care to talk about – and you said yes. But you would never say yes.

Because icons don’t lie. Except for when they do.

This LÜK was no lie, however. You walked down a street in New York City with your LÜK and so much swagger that if you had an energy it would have been of the Big Dick variety. And, let’s face it, that was the energy you exuded as you stomped down the sidewalk in your “too tall” heels, towering over everyone else’s _lesser_ energy with such a ferocity that the sidewalk was your personal runway, and the girl who stole your boyfriend was at the end of it with a broken leg, and you had come to watch the doctors cut it off.

But that’s not where you were going. You didn’t even have anything to do today, having called in sick on a Friday so you could have a three-day weekend and decided to dress like you actually liked yourself for once – instead of wearing the stuffy white shirt and black ‘slacks’ of your office attire – and gone outside to remind yourself was being outside was actually like. Being outside, in and of itself, would almost be weird, if you weren’t the queen of ‘currently making being outside your bitch’ today.

Because you were walking down the sidewalk of a major city, most people – sadly – had not noticed this energy or your queenliness. Though you had noticed their not noticing you, did not care because your look was for you and not them.

One person, a man standing on the street corner talking to another man, did seem to notice you as you walked by. He was tall, and dressed entirely in black, so he was obviously on your level when it came to fashion. He was wonderfully pale, like a porcelain doll, and had the most piercing blue eyes. As you walked by the world seemed to take on the slow-mo intro scene of the ‘hot girl’ in most teen flicks from the 90s. You had just turned back from checking the light at the crosswalk, intending to cross, to see him and his cool blue eyes already riveted with the sight of you. It was obvious he was no longer listening to the man he stood with, a taller, bearded, blond man who looked like he walked out of an Abercrombie & Fitch ad, and had noticed you before you noticed him. Your eyes met as you strode past, and you looked away as you spun on your heel to a stop at the entrance of the crosswalk. What a move. What a smooth fucking move.

The move of an _icon._

You knew his eyes were still on you, and you couldn’t help but look up again to check. Just who the hell was he, thinking he could look that good and stare at you like that? Finally the man he was with noticed he wasn’t being listened to and looked where his companion was looking, at you, his expression betraying that he couldn’t understand why he appeared to be so enamored with you.

The speaker below the walk/don’t walk sign went off as the walk sign lit up and you, slave to the urban urge to follow the orders of signs because you had no real plans for the day, stepped into the crosswalk. Unbeknownst to you, the tall dark-haired man with the piercing blue eyes had walked after you, leaving his friend behind. Or at least, it would have been unbeknownst to you had you not had the whim of pulling a Harriet the Spy, and took out your compact mirror and angled it to see behind you. Seeing that he had instead followed you, you let the crowd close around you, allowing him to lose you.

He made it to the other side of the street, confused as to where you were while you watched him for a moment over someone’s head before apologizing for being in their way. You tapped his shoulder and he spun around.

“Hey,” you say.

His face relaxed from its expression of worriment and his lips pulled into a smile. “Hey.”

“Did you just follow me across the street?”

He looked across the street to where he had been standing and talking to the tall, blond man, who opened his arms as if to say ‘what the fuck?’ from the other side of the road. “Sorry. I… Yes.

You narrowed your eyes at him, an attempt at intimidation maybe, but you couldn’t help but smile at the same time. “Why?”

He inhaled sharply, trying to think of an answer. “I don’t know, I saw you and I just… I had to be near you.”

You smiled again. “You’re a little weird.”

He returned the smile, perhaps taken aback by the ease and decisiveness of your assessment.

“Well dressed though.”

He looked down as his outfit – suit, trousers, shirt, tie, all of it black – and looked up at you.

“Although I might have gone with a color for the tie. Maybe a brocade. Give it a little texture.”

He looked as his tie and considered your statement. His expression told you that he thought you might be right.

“Maybe green.”

“Green is my favorite color.”

“That must be why you’d look so good in it.”

He smiled and then gestured your shorts and your hat. “Is red your favorite color?”

You looked at you shorts and then back to him. “Yes.”

“That must be why it looks so good on you.”

You heard the gentle thud of footsteps and turned around to see that his friend had now joined you. “Well,” you said, not wanting to delay them any longer and wanting to leave an impression, “I have to get going.”

You moved past him to leave and he stood still for just a moment before turning around.

“Wait!”

You stopped and turned.

“I want to see you again.”

You smiled. “Oh? Well…” you said as you sauntered back towards him. “You might want to tell me your name first.”

He smiled, perhaps embarrassed that he forgot to introduce himself. “I’m Loki. This is my brother Thor.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Did your mother have an affinity for Norse legend and a hatred for names with more than four letters?”

Thor’s eyebrows knit in confusion while Loki laughed awkwardly. “I guess you could say that. The first one, not the second.”

You hummed as you thought to yourself for a moment. “I suppose you can’t really pick your own name at birth. Well, Loki, why don’t you give me your phone number?”

Loki’s face lit up.

“You don’t have a phone,” Thor said quietly.

Loki appeared to visibly deflate when he heard this, appearing to have minor internal turmoil for a moment before smiling again. “I can get a phone.”

“How do you not have a phone?” You asked, incredulous as hell.

“I—I’m from England. I’m moving here but I haven’t gotten an American phone plan yet. And… my phone broke yesterday on the flight.”

This sounded like bullshit to you, but you didn’t know enough to call him out on it. However, his brother screwed up his face in a look of confusion for a moment before Loki smacked him in the chest and he stopped.

“Alright,” you said and dug a pen out of your bag and searched for a piece of paper while Loki looked at you eagerly. You gave up the search, and sighed. “I don’t have anything to write on.”

He held out his hand, bewildering himself with the speed at which he did so.

You looked at his hand for a moment before comprehending what he meant and pulled it towards you, pulling his sleeve up a little bit so you could write on the inside of his wrist.

“What are you doing?”

“You should never write a phone number on the palm of someone’s hand, they’ll just sweat it off.”

As you wrote your phone number you could feel his pulse under your fingers where you held onto him. It quickened although the appearance he was giving off was one of relaxed calm. As he watched you he exhaled slowly and you could feel the heat of his breath on your neck. As you finished you looked up at him, the lines around his eyes were soft, caring. He smiled.

Before you released his hand, a thought occurred to you. “Oh!” And you jotted a ‘+1’ in front of your number. “Since you’re from England.”

He looked at his hand for a moment like he didn’t understand what that meant

You smiled, shoved your pen back into your bag and turned to walk away.

“Wait!” he called after you. “What’s your name?”

“Y/N.” You said and swung back around to enter the subway station.

 

* * *

 

Loki turned to Thor and grinned, but then his smile dropped as panic set in, “I need a phone! I need to get a phone!”

Thor nodded, amused by his enthusiasm and confused that he seemed to be completely smitten with you. This was the brother who tried to talk him out of staying with his own human girlfriend years ago. He wondered if he should point that out before realizing that there wasn’t a point, he had never seen his baby brother so happy before in his long life and wanted to help. He thought for a moment, and then realized that Tony could probably set him up with something.  He guessed that all the other Avengers who lived on Earth probably had cell phones with amazing service and unlimited data, not that he truly understood what either of those things were, but he had heard them talk about Tony’s private cellphone service before and that it was amazing and also free.

Tony winced at first at the idea of giving Loki a phone which would not only let him bother “an innocent human woman,” as he said, but also allow him to bother the rest of the Avengers. Thor had to convince him that his brother was over his “You know, just his whole trying to be evil. He was only evil at the time because he was sad. He’s fine now.” To which Tony sighed and retrieved one of the phones for him.

“It should be able to withstand going through the Bifrost, once it’s working again, but if it doesn’t just find me and we’ll figure something out,” he said and wearily walked into the other room.

Peter, excited that Loki had a phone and not knowing much about him aside that ‘he had attacked Earth that one time,’ sat next to him and helped him set it all up and gave him his own number and had him texting within the hour.

“Loki, stop sending me texts with nothing but eggplants in them!” Tony hollered from the other room.


	2. Chapter 2

After annoying Tony and making Pepper and Peter laugh for a few hours, Thor became so jealous that he demanded that Tony give him a Special Avengers Cell Phone as well.

“Not what they’re called, but okay,” Tony groaned. Now knowing that he had committed a grave error in giving Loki his own phone and retrieved another phone for Thor.

As Peter and Pepper helped Thor set up his phone, Loki took the opportunity to find a quiet spot alone where he could make a private call.

 

* * *

 

“Hello?” You answered, dearly hoping it wasn’t going to be a robocall in a language you didn’t understand. Or one you did. You found yourself wondering which was worse.

“Hi. It’s me, Loki.”

“Oh, hi. You got a new phone?”

“Uh, yeah, I got a phone… So, how are you?”

“About the same as when you saw me earlier. Less dressed up, maybe.”

“Ah.”

“I was about to watch a movie.”

“Oh? What is it about?”

You laughed softly. “Well, I haven’t decided on one. I was about to look through the channels to see if anything good was playing and then watch whatever seemed like it didn’t suck.”

“Oh,” he laughed. “Well, I hope you find something interesting.”

He was quiet for a moment. You wondered if he was always this awkward when it came to talking to people on the phone.

“So… did you just call me to take a poll about my TV viewing habits? Or did you have a plan?”

“Oh! Yes. I—I would like to see you again. And not just see you on the street, maybe I could see you in a restaurant?”

“A restaurant seems like a good place to see me. Did you decide _when_ you would like to see me in a restaurant?”

“Uh, perhaps tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow seems like a good day to be seen in a restaurant. What time?  And which restaurant would you like to see me in?”

You could hear scuffling in the background and the hushed voices of other people.

“Is there someone else there?”

“Just, uh, my assistant. She’s helping me to find a restaurant to take you to.”

You swore you could hear the voice of a woman, and the voices of at least three men, one much younger than the other two.

“Do you have more than one assistant? And why are you at the office this late on a Friday?”

“Oh, I’m just a… workaholic,” he spoke the last word as if it wasn’t one he knew.

“Alright,” you said, not really believing him but you weren’t sure where to start in your disbelief. “I hope they get their heads together and pick someplace nice.”

“Uh, they suggest… The Peartree? Have you heard of it?”

Your heart sank for a moment. Yes you had, but only because it was in a culinary magazine you read at the dentist’s one day, a magazine that said it was very nice. And _very_ expensive.

You covered this up with a low chuckle. “Are you planning on paying?”

“Of—Of course.” He sounded flustered.

You let the air hang dead for a moment, you weren’t actually considering whether or not you’d go, you had already decided you would earlier, but you were now a little confused as to why a guy who could afford The Peartree was asking you out. Like, wow, dude. Wow. All that confidence you had given yourself leave to own earlier had certainly paid off.

Someone in the background on his end asked, “Did she hang up?”

“A—Are you still there?” He asked nervously. What the hell did have to be nervous about?

“I’ll go. Have your assistants make a reservation for… 7pm?”

“I will.” You could practically hear him smile through the phone.

“Okay. I’ll meet you outside the place a little bit before 7, then.”

“Yeah, I’ll see you there.” He hung up.

“What the _fuck_?” You couldn’t help but say out loud to yourself.

 

* * *

 

“YOU DIDN’T TELL HER GOODBYE!!” Peter, Pepper, and Tony all screamed at Loki, spoiling his radiant smile as he ended the call, and making Thor jump.

 

* * *

 

Just as the rudeness of his lack of goodbye left you wondering if you should stand him up tomorrow, your phone buzzed in your hand. A text.

“I’m so sorry I didn’t say goodbye. I wanted to say good night.”

You went back to your received calls and added Loki’s number, still wondering what parents would name their kids such… names. You looked at the text again and yes, it was his.

“That was a little rude, man.” You sent back and leaned back on the couch, your outfit from earlier replaced with pjs and a comfortable bathrobe. You wondered what he would think of you if he saw you like this. You decided that you wouldn’t care and would own the look. An icon likes to be comfortable.

“I know, and I’m sorry. Forgive me?”

You had to stare at his answer for a moment because he had sent you a winking kissy face.

“What a weirdo,” you laughed to yourself before responding with, “Forgiven.”

You supposed that rich people were probably inclined to be strange. After all, they out of anyone could afford it.

 

* * *

 

The real reason you had told him to meet you ‘a little before seven’ was because you wanted to get there at 7 exactly and make an entrance. Not really an _entrance_ per se, because the two of you were meeting on the sidewalk outside the restaurant, but you wanted to make an impression by having him wait for you and see you stride on over like you owned the place. In reality, for all you knew the owners of the restaurant made more money than you could ever hope to see in your life, and so did he. You had to bring something to the proverbial table. Even if that something was pure grit.

And a stellar fashion sense.

The taxi you hired let you off a few car lengths away from the restaurant, leaving you to walk the few short feet there.

When he saw you – decked out in a floor length, long-sleeved, black lace dress with a keyhole neck, a place that you had used to your advantage and wore a necklace with a garnet pendant that sat in that spot like they were made for each other, your hair in a curled updo reminiscent of the hairstyles of the late Victorian era – he seemed to forget to breathe for a moment.

He himself was dressed to the nines – he clearly took your advice from yesterday to heart with a dark green brocade suit, a buttoned up black shirt, but with a black scarf with gold threaded accents across his shoulders instead of a tie – and you were glad that you had bought the dress you wore ages ago and held onto it every time you cleaned your closet out, instead of caving to the ‘rational voice’ that always nagged, telling you you were never going to get to wear it in public.

Fuck the rational voice, sometimes you had to own a really great dress.

“Hi,” he said as he looked you up and down.

“Hello,” you smiled. You noticed he was wearing gold cufflinks with black gems set into them. You wondered just how loaded he really was.

“You look… amazing. Really amazing.”

“Thank you,” you smiled and did a little ‘over-the-shoulder-bat-of-the-eyelashes’ pose for him.

He chuckled. “Shall we go eat?” And held out his arm for you to take.

Of course you took it. You would have been stupid not to.

 

* * *

 

After your table was procured and wine was ordered, you tried to needle what little information out of him you could. After all, how does someone with gold cufflinks get off a plane from the UK and have no concern for his phone that he _somehow_ broke on the way over? What did he do? Smash it when he was closing the overhead compartment? Did the drinks cart roll over it?

“So, what do you do?”

“Do?”

“…Your job. What job do you have?”

He paused for a moment, seemingly to think. “I don’t have a job.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Then how do you have such expensive looking clothes?”

“I’m… independently wealthy.”

You nodded. _Landed gentry_ , you thought. Old money. Of course. No wonder he didn’t care about his phone, he was probably so out of touch that he didn’t even need it. He did have more than one assistant, after all.

“Where in England are you from?”

“Uh, well, I’m not _from_ England, but I have a home there.”

This seemed like a lie. How was he not from England if he clearly had the accent?

“So where are you from?”

“…Elsewhere?”

You couldn’t help but let your eyebrow raise again. You had been told before that it was probably the closest thing you had to a ‘tell’ but instead of it meaning you were lying, it meant you thought other people were lying. Or that what they were doing displeased you. Or anything. You inadvertently raised your eyebrow for literally anything. It was uncontrollable. Mind of its own.

This time he seemed to notice.

“So uh, what do you do?” He asked and took a sip of his wine.

“I work in an office.”

“Oh.” He nodded.

You waited. “Aren’t you going to ask me what I do there? Where it is?”

“Oh, sorry. What do you—”

“No. You don’t get to ask now.”

He looked at his wine glass for a few seconds before asking, “Why not?”

Your brow furrowed. “I can’t coach you how to have a conversation like a normal human. You have to do it on your own.”

“And… what if I’m not a normal human?”

“Then I guess you’re on your own,” you said and took a long sip of wine. You were now realizing that agreeing to a date might have been a stupid idea and that you were going to need everything you could to get through it.

 

* * *

 

After ordering food, the conversation was even lighter. He seemed to not watch any TV, and when you asked him what his hobbies were he responded with, “You wouldn’t understand,” as if dumb rich people shit like water polo or whatever was so beyond you. The food was nice at least, and at the very least, he was easy on the eyes. If you were being honest though, as a date, it was a bust.

But at least you got a nice meal at a fancy place out of it.

He had the decency to keep his word and pay the bill, though at that point in the night you wondered if that was all he was good at, aside from dressing well and looking at you in a way that made you feel like the only other person in the room. The only person of any consequence. You wondered just how he did that. Because every time you looked at him, he was looking back at you like you were the most important person, like he couldn’t look away even if he wanted to. You guessed that he probably didn’t want to. You decided that was his only redeeming quality, that he looked at you like he was seeing only you, and like you _mattered_.

He got the door for you and you walked outside, wishing it had gone better. That he was more interesting and maybe a little less rich. Just so he would have a favorite TV show or something that the two of you could have talked about, or a hobby that he didn’t feel was over your head. If only he was a rich person in the vein of the Addams Family; still goth as fuck, but not completely out of touch with the common man.

“Can I see you again?” He asked, his face all boyish giddiness.

You looked away for a moment, wondering if you should just tell him to fuck off but that face, and the way he looked at you, got the better of you. “I don’t know. You were super cagey about where you live and what you do with your time. Like as if I, the miserable little proletariat couldn’t hope to understand your grand bourgeois hobbies—”

“I don’t understand what those words mean.”

You sighed. “Of course you don’t. Regardless, I don’t know if I want to go on another date with you.”

If you were being totally honest with yourself you thought that, for a moment, you saw a look of sadness wash across his face before he covered it up with a blasé expression.

“Oh?”

“Yeah. Like, normally when you go on a first date you ask the other person all about themselves and try to get to know them better in the hopes that you might go on a second date and do the same, and then a third, and then it leads to other things. But you know…” you trailed off as you were running out of ideas and maybe the wine you had was making you a little _too_ honest.

“I… I would love to answer those questions for you, but they’re not easy ones for me to answer.”

You sighed and rolled your eyes. “How? How could they be anything _but_ easy to answer? Look: my name is Y/n, I come from [Y/home town], and I work at an office where I make pointless calls all day and hope that I die before the insanity finally sets in. See? It’s not hard.”

Loki’s brow knit before his lips broadened into a smile. “I guess it really isn’t.”

“Yeah, it’s not.”

“I noticed that you didn’t tell me where your office was.”

“Yeah, you’re going to have to _earn_ any other information if you want it, buddy. And obviously I don’t live in my home town anymore so it’s not like it matters if you know that.”

He continued smiling.

You sighed. “What are you smiling about?”

He shook his head. “There’s just something about you. I would dearly like to take you on a second date… If I could.”

“If you’re willing to be more honest than tonight then you can take me out on a second date. If you’re not, then you may not.”

He mulled this over for a moment, seeming to come to a conclusion. “Alright. Then I suppose we are going to go on a second date.”

“I look forward to your honesty.”

The two of you were quiet for a moment, you with your hand on your hip, him with his clasped as his waist. Throughout the conversation, except for the one moment where you seemed to catch him off guard, he had still been looking at you the way he looked at you all night.

Insufferable man, with his baby blues.

“Might I walk you home?”

“Mmm, no. On account of your cageyness during our date. You don’t get to know where I live.”

He raised his hands in defeat. “You’re completely right. Allow me to call you a cab.”

He hailed you a cab and paid the driver with way too much money, telling him to take you wherever you wanted to go. Before you could get in, he turned to you.

“How about, you call me when you’re ready for our next date. You can decide where we’re going and what we’re doing.”

“Ball’s in my court, huh?”

He appeared confused.

“That was a tennis reference? I thought rich people liked tennis.”

He laughed, “Oh, yes. Rich people love tennis.”

You narrowed your eyes at him. “Okay.” And got into the cab.

“Goodnight,” he said and flashed you another winning smile and closed the door.

As the cab driver pulled away, you just had to ask. “How much did he pay you?”

“Well… where are you headed?”

You gave him your apartment’s address.

“Then he paid me _way_ too much for your ride. Do you want to go somewhere else before I take you home? You could go out of the city and back on this.”

You sighed. “No, just take me home please.”

“Sure thing.”

Maybe, if he decided to level with you and didn’t deflect the questions you were going to re-ask him on your next date, he was more Gomez-like than you thought. He seemed like a rich weirdo and they were a family of rich weirdos, after all. You just needed him to be honest with you first. The idea of your next date came to you and you sent him a text.

You: Since you’re a tourist we can go to Central Park. Lunchtime picnic tomorrow?

Loki: Can’t wait to see me again? ;)

Loki: Sure. Shall I bring a basket?

You: Well I certainly don’t own one.

Loki: Ha, that’s fair. You’ll have to bring something, I can’t be completely responsible for our food two dates in a row.

 _Cheeky_ , you thought to yourself as you looked at your phone’s screen with a raised eyebrow. Someone had to tell him that paying for food isn’t ‘being responsible’ for food. Not nearly as responsible as bringing food with you or making someone dinner.

You: I’ll bring the wine, you bring everything else.

You: Be by the park’s north entrance at 11. I’m going to hit the liquor store near there before I meet you.

Loki: Demanding.

You: You have no idea.

Loki: I like it ;)

“Here’s your stop,” the cab driver said and pulled up to the door of your apartment building.

It took you a moment to realize what he said, as that last text and winky face had you blushing. You shoved your phone in your pocket and the door opened.

“Got the door for you, miss. I figure I might as well since your friend overpaid,” the driver said with a smile.

“Oh, thank you.” You responded, and he helped you out of the car.

“Have a nice night, miss,” the portly man said, flashing you another smile and getting into the driver’s seat.

You waved goodbye before wondering why you were waving goodbye to the cab driver and put your hand down. You fished your keys out of your bag, pulling out your phone again and looked at his text. You wondered if you should let his last text hang in the air, like a possibly awkward comment or if you should respond. Was he hoping for a response? What did he think you were going to respond with? Something flirty? Something sexy? You put the phone back in your bag and walked the stairs up to your apartment.

Maybe you shouldn’t acknowledge it. That might only encourage it and you weren’t sure if you wanted to encourage something with someone so… _unknown_. To be fair to yourself, to be very _very_ fair to yourself, you knew almost nothing about him. You took your phone out one last time for the night. You promised yourself that after this you were going to take everything off, shower, and go to sleep. And you weren’t going to pick up your phone to look at it again.

He had sent you another message.

Loki: Unless you’re not usually demanding. In that case, I’d like that as well.

_Why was he like a teenaged boy who had never been on a date or had a crush before but in the body of a grown man with too much money?_

You: I’ll see you tomorrow at 11.

And you put your phone down. In the living room.

 

* * *

 

“That was too much!” Peter yelled, his violent reaction making Loki nearly throw his phone. “You can’t be that flirty that early! You’re going to scare her off! You’re so lucky she didn’t cancel your date tomorrow because of that.”

Loki looked at him, shocked expression permeating his features. “I’m sorry! I’m not good at this dating thing!”

“Don’t you have dates on Asgard? How do people get married?”

“Normally you already know someone well and then you ask them out and you already know how familiar you can be. We don’t just ask people out off the street.”

“Yeah? Well that’s what you did, dude, so you better pedal back the flirty winky eyes before you freak her out.”

Loki looked at his phone screen for a moment, mulling over his texts. “ _Shit_ those came off as _way_ too flirty! You’re right! Agh!” He paced for a moment, hands on his head, a look of anguish on his face. “I’m so stupid. I should have asked you to tell me what to say.”

“Well, I can’t be your Cyrano de Bergerac.”

“What?”

Peter looked at him for a long moment. “Read an Earth book, man.”


	3. Chapter 3

It went as you said. As was foretold in the texts.

The texts you two had sent the night before.

But before that, your LÜK of the day. Being a person who loved picnics, of _course_ you owned a summer hat made of straw. Being an icon, of _course_ it was black. You wore a cute and exceedingly flattering summer dress. A black dress that hit right above the knee with a white Peter Pan collar. This iconic frock was accessorized with sheer black leggings, a pair of oxblood leather Mary Janes, and matching deep red gloves.

Back to what was foretold in last night’s texts.

You went to the liquor store before beelining to meet him. He smiled at you, that heartbreaking, beautiful smile that every time, turned your legs to jelly. But today was not going to be a day of jelly legs and close faces with entirely too much giggling, today was a day of _answers_.

He followed you, basket in tow diligently climbing over low hills and through the trees as you led him to the perfect place. There was a spot you often went to on a Saturday to get out of your apartment. Lakeside, the two of you could watch the waterfowl as they paddled around in the shallow water. It was romantic but with a certain pastoral feeling at the same time, and not wholly unlike a lakeside in a Monet painting.

You unfolded the picnic blanket, after having furiously looked for it all morning, and smoothed it out on the floor.

“Couldn’t we have taken the pathway?” He asked as he pointed to the walkway that had branched off from the entrance early on and passed not ten feet from the spot you were currently setting up at.

An icon _knows_ what she is doing.

It went as you said. As was foretold in the texts.

The texts you two had sent the night before.

But before that, your LÜK of the day. Being a person who loved picnics, of _course_ you owned a summer hat made of straw. Being an icon, of _course_ it was black. You wore a cute and exceedingly flattering summer dress. A black dress that hit right above the knee with a white Peter Pan collar. This iconic frock was accessorized with sheer black leggings, a pair of oxblood leather Mary Janes, and matching deep red gloves.

Back to what was foretold in last night’s texts.

You went to the liquor store before beelining to meet him. He smiled at you, that heartbreaking, beautiful smile that every time, turned your legs to jelly. But today was not going to be a day of jelly legs and close faces with entirely too much giggling, today was a day of _answers_.

He followed you, basket in tow diligently climbing over low hills and through the trees as you led him to the perfect place. There was a spot you often went to on a Saturday to get out of your apartment. Lakeside, the two of you could watch the waterfowl as they paddled around in the shallow water. It was romantic but with a certain pastoral feeling at the same time, and not wholly unlike a lakeside in a Monet painting.

You unfolded the picnic blanket, after having furiously looked for it all morning, and smoothed it out on the floor.

“Couldn’t we have taken the pathway?” He asked as he pointed to the walkway that had branched off from the entrance early on and passed not ten feet from the spot you were currently setting up at.

An icon _knows_ what she is doing.

You finished smoothing out the wrinkles in the picnic blanket as you spoke, lifting it up and throwing the odd rock into the pond as you found them. “I knew it was there, I wanted to see if you would actually follow me through the trees and over hills covered in hard to traverse tree roots. Especially in those shoes.”

His shoes, deep green leather, _must_ have been expensive. The rest of his outfit choice looked just as expensive, a pinstriped suit that alternated between matte black and glossy black, a black shirt covered with a floral pattern that was mostly greens and greys and left unbuttoned at the collar, and – what you thought were – emerald and silver cufflinks. He was so on your level when it came to arriving at a place and serving up a look, and you couldn’t tell if you found it incredibly attractive or _very_ annoying.

He looked down at his shoes and back to you as you finished your job of making the ground under the blanket sit-able, and sat down on the blanket, legs nonchalantly stretched out.

He smiled. “I would follow you to the ends of the earth if you asked.” And sat next to you.

You were sure that, had that been a text, it would have been accompanied by a winky face.

“Oh really?” You asked flatly.

He didn’t answer, he just smiled and opened the basket. “I wasn’t sure what to bring, so I had to ask my brother and his friends to help me. I hope this is okay.”

You looked at him for a moment before looking into the picnic basket. “What, your assistants weren’t around to ask?”

“Uh,” he laughed nervously, “no.”

You watched him as he took each item out of the basket, looking to you to gauge your reaction each time. You knew what he was up to, and kept your face expressionless. Corralling that errant eyebrow so as not to give away your feelings.

First, he took out a container large enough to hold a small casserole. He opened it, and inside were some crustless sandwiches cut up into quarters. Then the next container, round, he opened it and revealed a variety of cheeses. He opened the next, square but smaller, the crackers. He was doing well so far. The next one, an assortment of fruits both exotic and mundane. He took out a small rectangle that was wrapped in brown parchment paper, a few kinds of chocolate. He then took the plates, utensils, and glasses out of their assigned places around the inside of the basket. And lo and behold, he even brought _cloth napkins_. That was it, he was too rich and too well put together for you.

An adult man who brings all the picnic food, real plates, _and_ cloth napkins? He was _living_.

You took the bottle of wine you had just bought out of the black liquor store bag. “I hope you don’t mind cheap wine.”

“Is it bad?”

“It’s delicious, it’s just cheap.”

He looked at the label and then at you. “I’m sure it’s lovely.”

 _Lovely_. You wanted to throw yourself into the pond.

“What do you think of the food I brought?” He said and waved his arms out as if he was inviting you to a banquet in a medieval hall. “My brother and his friends had quite a few different ideas of what I should bring. I mostly went with the advice of his friend’s wife.”

 _There it is_. You thought.

“At least you had the good sense to listen to a woman.”

His expression became grave. “My mother was my most ardent supporter and best friend.”

You knew where this was going. “… What happened to her?”

“She’s dead.”

He lowered his head and busied himself with making a plate for you. Two sandwiches and a few crackers, he held the cheese container out to you so you could pick for yourself.

You eyed him for a moment and he looked up at you.

An icon is not purposefully a dick. Only when it’s funny and no one can get hurt.

“Sorry,” you apologized as you sat up, tucking your legs to the side and taking both the plate and the cheese container. “She must have been nice.”

He watched you as you selected a sharp cheddar, an herbed goat cheese, and some brie.

“Why do you say that?”

“She raised you.”

He smiled, and you swore he looked a little teary-eyed.

You smiled back, somewhat ashamed that you had instigated the memory by accident. You took the other plate and put two sandwiches on it and a few crackers, handed it to him and held out the cheese container.

He took it with a smile and mulled over his options.

“Why don’t you tell me about her? You promised you were going to give me honesty today, she could be a good place to start.”

He finished selecting his cheese and sat back, stretching his legs out and using his lap as a table for his plate. “What do you want to know about her?”

“What was she like?”

He smiled, more to himself than to you. “She was lovely. She doted on my brother and I. She was there for us when we fell and hurt ourselves, always with a kind word and a kiss for a boo boo…. She was a good mother.”

“She sounds like it.”

“She taught me everything I know.”

“About what?”

Your question seemed to catch him off-guard. He laughed. Nervous? And shook his head.

“Everything.”

You could come back to it later.

“What was her name?”

“Frigga.”

 _Duh_ , you thought. It took every ounce of control not to sigh or raise an eyebrow at the fact that his entire family seemed to have names taken from the Norse gods. He and his brother? You could believe that, some parents were weird. Hell, in your hometown there was a family whom all had first names that started with the letter ‘R’. But, and this was only if his father also fit the theme, an entire family named after Norse gods? And naming the sons after Thor and Loki made no sense. Loki wasn't Odin’s son in the mythos. Such bias on his parent's part. Thor of the ancient Norse gods already had brothers, and none of them were Loki.

Despite your inner voice ranting about names, you managed a smile. “That's a pretty name.”

“Her name is from Norse mythology as well.”

“Is it?” You asked hoping you sounded believably impressed and _not_ like you were about to crack.

“Yes. She was the wife of Odin. And my father's name--”

 _DON'T_ , you thought.

“--was Odin.”

You seriously debated standing up and throwing yourself into the pond. You might have if it were deeper.

“That's uncanny. How did they meet?”

You _needed_ to hear this story. It was the only thing that could make your life whole again.

“Well…” he trailed off.

You needed to know. Not that you entirely cared how they met, this was really an appropriate conversation for more than a month of solid dating, really, but you needed something in your life to make sense after hearing that the man you sat with came from an _entire family_ of people named after ancient Norse gods. Did one of his parents legally change their name because the other parent had a Norse name? Did they change their names together after reading a mythology book and deciding it was a cool idea? Was he born into a cult? You weren't sure which was more plausible.

“They met when they were young.”

It must be the cult one.

“See, when my grandfather Bor ruled Asgard--”

... _What?_

“...What?”

“I'm… I'm from Asgard. As is Thor.”

You narrowed your eyes at him, wondering if you were on a date with an insane person. Or if, maybe, _you_ were going insane. Maybe it wasn't insanity, maybe you were just concussed. Maybe you tripped as you were walking to meet him and hit your head and this was all a dream and J.R. never was shot.

You blinked. “I'm… sorry?”

He studied you for a moment as your expression was one of incredulous disbelief. He laughed.

“Yes… I’m Loki.”

You eyeballed him.

Realization washed over his expression. “You really don’t know who I am?”

“I’m confused.”

“My brother is Thor.”

“You’ve told me that.”

“…The Avenger.”

Now you understood. “WHAT?”

“How do you know who he is but not who I am?”

“I know who the Avengers are,” you said defensively. “I mean, I’ve heard of them.”

“You didn’t—You—” he blinked, “New York? Sokovia? The whole Thanos thing?”

“Yeah, I heard of those.”

“ _We are in New York!_ ” He was shouting now in the way one does when they can’t believe what’s happening.

“Yeah, well I was on vacation when the space aliens attacked!”

“ _WHAT?_ ”

“I was in Peru climbing Machu Picchu.”

He laughed so violently that he had to cover his mouth.

“Not every country has a 24-hour news cycle!”

He kept laughing and had to lay back to calm down. Although he was laughing at you, he did look very fine stretched out as he was right now. Fine or not, you still felt the need to defend yourself. “Also, the worst offenders of the whole… ‘talking about things for too long’ thing that news companies do is Fox News and they were bought up by someone that folded them. Finally.”

“I believe that was Tony’s doing.”

“Stark?”

“Yes.”

You nodded.

“So you know who he is?”

“Yeah, because his company was selling weapons to literally everyone for a while there… and then he said he was Iron Man on live TV.”

Loki nodded. “That’s fair.”

He sat up and took off his jacket, folding it gently and laying it on the blanket. He uncuffed his sleeves and rolled them up, and then reclined again, laying his head on his hands. He closed his eyes for a moment and sighed.

“So… do you remember what happened when the Avengers saved New York?”

“I remember everyone trying to tell me about it when I got back.”

He nodded. “What do you remember?”

You shrugged. “Some aliens were coming through a portal or something and… something, something, something, the Avengers saved everyone.”

“Do you know how they got through the portal?”

“No idea. Didn’t much care.”

He looked at you. “Why not?”

You took off your gloves and took a bite of your sandwich and chewed thoughtfully. “Well, if I were here I might have died, and I wouldn’t have been able to control that. And, since I wasn’t here, I didn’t die, not something I did purposefully since my vacation was planned months in advance so I didn’t necessarily control that either.”

He observed you quietly as you took another bite and thought.

“Mmm… I think it’s… it’s one of those things that’s so much bigger than me that it feels like it doesn’t make sense to get worked up over. I couldn’t have helped or done anything about it, so what’s the point?”

He watched you as you finished your sandwich and brushed the crumbs from your hands. “That’s pretty dark.”

“I can only control the stuff in my small sphere and… Well, I can vote on things. But I work in an _office_ , dude. I barely have any control over my own life.”

He nodded as if he understood. You wondered if he did.

“That’s why I liked being in Peru. Yeah, I was on vacation so it had to end at some point, but I wasn’t in a shitty cubicle where I had no privacy, and I got to be the one to decide what I did all day instead of having someone else tell me what to do. It was like I was actually existing for a change.”

“So to come back to hear that someone huge happened—”

“I just didn’t care. I couldn’t have done anything about it. I couldn’t even give blood because I had left the country.” You shrugged. The irony that you couldn’t even give blood – a thing the human body makes constantly and that was very much needed after the attack – because of some possibly archaic rules about travel.

He nodded again.

You placed a piece of cheese on one of the crackers and ate it.

He sat up and ate his first sandwich.

“So…” you said, drawing his attention to you. “Where were you when the attack happened?”

He swallowed hard. “Um… leading the charge.”

“For the Avengers?”

“…Against.”

“ _Huh_. Well, I didn’t expect that as an answer.”

He looked away, sheepishly.

You viewed him. You honestly wished you could remember any of the news reports from back then, but it’s been what, ten years since you thought about it? The everyday drudgery of waking up, sitting in a beige room making calls and sending emails all day had a tendency to make every day blur together into an uninteresting mush of beige and hatred for how one’s life has progressed. Or maybe, to be more accurate, _not_ progressed.

“Does… that make you hate me?”

“Listen, I’m going to level with you. I don’t remember it at all, but I suppose I should a little bit. At the most Earth could now be controlled by aliens and at the least, I might not have had an apartment to come home to.”

He was quiet.

“I presume that if you were talking to your brother when I met you, that you must not be on bad terms anymore.”

“Oh, no, we aren’t. We have a good relationship now. A lot has happened since then.”

You nodded. “And by his ‘friends’ helping you with the picnic, I’m assuming you meant the other Avengers.”

“Yes. Peter, Spiderman, and Tony and his wife Pepper helped. Pepper coached me on making the sandwiches and cutting the fruit and everything.”

“You’ll have to tell her I liked everything when you see her again.”

He smiled.

“So, you’re not rich, and you don’t have a battery of assistants.”

“Well…” he inclined his head as he thought. “I was a prince of Asgard so I guess that would make me royalty, which would make me rich but… there was no poverty in Asgard at all. We had servants instead of assistants but they all lived in the palace and had luxurious rooms. Families and all that.”

You chuckled, and when your chuckle turned into an all-out laugh you had to lay down to recover. You knew he was looking at you as you covered your face with your hands and tried to calm down.

“Is that so unbelievable?” He asked with a laugh.

“No. But I asked if you were rich and you tell me you’re royalty. Like… just what the fuck?”

He smiled at your astonishment.

“It wasn’t really the answer I was expecting.” You took your hands off your face and looked at him.

“If it makes you feel better, Asgard no longer exists because our father’s death released our older sister from prison and we had to release a fire giant to take her down.”

You looked at him, eyes wide with shock, as he went back to his food.

You howled and were thrown into a violent fit of laughter.

“Well, it wasn’t funny at the time.”

“Normally the craziest thing someone has to tell is that they were adopted.”

He looked at you, expressionless.

You looked back, face full of dread.

“Actually, I _was_ adopted.”

“OKAY!” You yelled and sat up. “You are going to start from the beginning and tell me your whole life – don’t leave a single thing out – and tell everything _in order_!

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Leave a comment and let me know if you like it! :)


	4. Chapter 4

And he told you everything.

That he was found, the runt son of a frost giant king, and was taken to Asgard to be raised as a son of Odin. How he was, most likely, his mother’s favorite because while his brother was brash and always running around knocking things over he was quiet and bookish. Except for when he would use the illusion powers his mother taught him to disguise himself as a snake so he could stab his brother (yeah, he told you about that, he did it more than once and Thor fell for it every time). He told you about how he hated his brother for a long time because he was always their father’s favorite, and how he had used his hotheadedness against him and gotten him banished so he had to prove himself just to be allowed back.

He told you about the time he spent lost in the darkest regions of the universe and how Thanos – that guy that did that thing a while back where he tried to kill like half the people in the known universe because he got a special glove that let him make a wish and he was _so mad_ that a bunch of people he knew died that he decided to take it out on everyone else when really like, he could have just wished them back to life, or wished for more resources, or for more planets to put the people who have no resources on instead of getting all Malthusian and deciding that there weren’t _enough_ resources when the situation, on Earth at least, is that there’s an _unequal distribution_ of resources… people just really need to read Marx – had a servant of his give him a staff and an army and told him to invade Earth (that thing you were glad you missed). At that point you couldn’t help but wonder what the hell the Earth had done that warranted – what seemed like – an attempt to take it out of the game early. It’s a planet filled with galactic babies who haven’t even figured out FTL space travel yet.

Loki was to be kept in prison for life after that; something that, although he wasn’t happy about the idea of spending the rest of his thousands of years alive in prison, he felt he deserved in hindsight.

Then Thor’s at-the-time girlfriend accidentally contracted a thing called the Aether that a dark elf wanted to use to plunge the universe into darkness, as if flying to a place where there was a red giant or no sun was impossible. Has that guy ever heard of Heat Death? Just wait a few billion years, man, it would have happened anyway. (He warned you not to bring up Thor and his ex’s breakup up when you meet him.) After that debacle, Loki decided to put their father in an old folk’s home so he could rule Asgard with his visage.

Asgard had peace for a time, mostly because Thor hadn’t shown up with any of his Avengers-related problems in a while, only to have it broken by Thor showing up and exposing the fact that he wasn’t Odin. Once they had hunted down their father he died which released their overzealous, imperialistic older sister who wanted to use their people to take over the Nine Realms. Apparently some still think colonialism is still in fashion.

“Earth is one of the Nine Realms, by the way. We call it Midgard.”

“I’m familiar with Ancient Norse mythology.” You laughed gently as you took off your hat and fluffed your hair. The early light of the sunset meant you didn’t need it anymore, and you sat it next to you on the blanket. You stretched out your legs and smoothed your dress over them, and laid back and rested your head on your hands.

He chuckled. “Then you should know that it all basically came from us. We used to be stewards over your planet. A long time ago.”

“From what you’ve told me so far, it seems like most extraterrestrial beings want to take us over, and I just can’t figure out what you all think we have to offer that’s worth it.”

He smiled as he gazed at you. “I can think of at least one thing that makes your planet worth it.”

You looked up at him. “Smooth.”

His smile widened.

“So earlier you said you had to unleash a fire giant to fight your sister.”

“Surtir. Yes, he completely destroyed Asgard and our people are refugees. Most of them live on Earth.”

You nodded. “It’s a good thing that Fox News is gone. If they can’t deal with human refugees, their heads would have _exploded_ at the thought of aliens from another planet wanting to stay here.”

He chuckled.

“So…” you said as you looked up through the leaves of the trees to see that the sky was just starting to darken. “What made _you_ want to take over the Earth?”

He thought for a moment and then shrugged. “The Other told me it was childish need… maybe it was. Our father had always groomed my brother to be king but he had never wanted it, and I was the one who wanted it and was never considered. It made me angry and bitter.”

“What changed your mind?”

He sighed. “The death of our mother. Time. I grew up, I guess. Having to save our people from our bloodlust-crazed sister helped.”

You smiled gently. “Well if you care to know, if you don’t plan on taking over the Earth any time soon, I could see another date in your future.”

“And if I do?”

“Then die, imperialist scum.”

He smiled bashfully. The blinding white of his teeth tempered by some emotion you couldn’t quite discern.

“Isn’t being honest fun?” You asked knowingly.

He smiled again, you thought you detected a soft giggle.

The two of you sat in the quiet of the setting sun. The way it painted the trees and everything around you looked more and more like an impressionist painting as the sun lowered and its beams stretched out in the Earth’s atmosphere. Together you finished most of the food, sharing in the gentle silence and simply enjoying each other’s company.

“Maybe we should pack everything up so we can leave. It’s going to be dark soon.” You began closing the containers so they could go back in the basket.

“Wait,” he said.

You looked up from what you were doing. “Hmm?”

“You look beautiful in this light.”

You hoped the pinks and red-oranges of the waning sunlight disguised the red you could feel heating up your cheeks in that moment.

He looked down and closed the container closest to him.

Together, you made quick work of the remaining foodstuffs, their containers, and the accoutrements, and after a few minutes they had all found their proper place in the basket.

“Shall we fold up the blanket?” You asked.

He closed the basket and set it aside. “Are you so eager to leave?”

You thought for a moment. “We had a delightful picnic, but I’m not really up for travelling in the dark and possibly getting harassed on the way home.”

“People harass you?”

“I’m a woman, dude. It’s par for the course.”

His face screwed up, betraying that he didn’t know what that meant.

“It’s just a part of existence.”

He frowned, thought for a moment, and pitched his idea. “How about I walk you home?”

“Is this an exchange? You give me hours of honesty and I let you walk me home?” You smiled wryly.

He smiled, your sassiness welcome to his ears. “I want to spend more time with you. And I want to see that you’re home safe.”

You sighed.

Points: He wasn’t a weird, out of touch, ‘old money’ rich guy who had too many assistants. He also wasn’t a weirdo who was born into a cult of people who all had names taken from Ancient Norse gods, and thus, he wasn’t trying to lure you into a cult or to your death. He, however, was one of the alien beings who did, in fact, _inspire the creation of_ those Ancient Norse gods. Which, in addition to that weirdness, also meant he was very old. Like, _really_ old. He also had some kind of daddy issues that had given him a sense of resentment and drove him to lash out in massively violent ways, once at your own planet. You were not personally affected by this lash out, _and_ you were not personally a target. These last two facts were through no fault of your own.

Further points: He seems to have reformed from his former shittiness and gotten over his daddy issues through the course of dealing with the deaths of both his parents, the destruction of his sister and his home planet, and through the general passage of time.

He seemed to be completely different from how he described himself as being before, and you had a sneaking suspicion that most people wouldn’t make up a checkered past for themselves in an attempt to sound like a badass; because they would have to risk sounding like an asshole.

You took a few moments to consider all this. He had been overwhelmingly honest with you, much more so than you had expected. In fact, once he started talking about himself, you wondered if he was ever going to stop. He clearly had a lot to work through and no one had ever given him the chance to work through it. You blithely wondered if there were therapists on Asgard because he could have definitely used one. At the very least, some talk therapy might have curbed his feelings of inadequacy before they bubbled to the surface in an attempt at a coup. At least two attempts.

He waited patiently as you mulled everything over, watching your face, perhaps in the hopes that he could discern some idea of what you were thinking.

Having come to your decision, you looked at him.

“You can have an hour more of my time. And you had better walk me home.” You finally said with a smile. You were going to a sexy grin, but you weren’t sure if it worked.

Maybe it had. He smiled back, a grin that was as mischievous as it was attractive.

“I’m glad you feel you can place your trust in me. I… don’t like the sound of you being harassed on your way home, I’d like to spare you that if I can.”

“Nothing about getting a little more of my time?”

His smile widened, “That I'm happy about that goes without saying.”

You chuckled a low chuckle. “What did you have planned for the last moments of our date?”

He shook his head. “Nothing special.  I just wanted to sit with you for a little while longer.”

“Hmm, that's a nice thought but I _do_ have work in the morning.”

“Oh yes..  tomorrow is Monday, isn’t it?”

You nodded. You really wished it wasn't.

“Humans hate Mondays or something like that. Right?”

You laughed. “Most of us do. The start of the workweek, going back to feeling like a meaningless cog in the gigantic machine that is capitalism. Not getting paid nearly enough for the sheer amount of time you’re wasting because you have to trade _something_ for a wage. Great feeling.”

He watched you.

“Super pumped.”

“Don't go.”

The suggestion genuinely surprised you. “Yeah?”

“If you hate it so much, then stop going.”

“Ha. Maybe if you're a prince of a whole planet, you don't have to do anything you don't want to do, but when you're one of us peasants you have to go to work.”

“We could go on another date.”

You bit your lip. It was an enticing proposition.

He looked at you with the face of a child trying to talk their mother into letting them stay up later. “I can be super honest again.”

You laughed.

“Hell, I might even let you have your way with me.”

You froze. Your voice left your lips shakily, “What?”

You thought that the same expression had flashed across his face before he inclined his head towards you and smiled deviously. “Come on..  I'm joking.”

Your cheeks felt flush. You were bright red and you knew it

“You do go a lovely shade of pink when you're embarrassed.”

“How _dare you_.” You muttered before turning away.

“How dare I _what_?” You heard him say as he moved closer. He was so close now that you could faintly feel his body heat as he sat right next to you.

_Oh god_. Was the only coherent thought you could muster, and you weren't sure why you were thinking it. Did you want him to do something? Or were you filled with dread?

Slowly, you turned to him. You could hear your heart beat faintly in your ears and you, now mere inches from his face, regarded his features. He had quite a nice face, something you already knew since this wasn't your first time looking at him. His skin was remarkably clear and you felt a faint pang of jealousy as your eyes moved over its alabaster finish. His jawline was quite sharp, and the slope of his forehead was gentle, giving him a kind look. His nose was well formed, the kind of nose you would expect on royalty. His lips, though thin, were purposeful, and while a smile did tend to play about them, when they were still they were almost stern.

And those blue eyes. You almost couldn't bear to be looked at with those clear, piercing blue orbs, the kind of blue reminiscent of a cloudless day. They seemed to look right through you.

“Why are you so close?” You whispered.

“It's getting dark,” he answered gently, “I wished to better see you.”

“‘Loki, the God of Mischief who-happens-to-have-night-blindness’?” You asked.

He smiled and laughed quietly. “I was debating… kissing you.”

You raised an eyebrow.

“Peter told me it was custom to kiss on the third date.”

“Spiderman told you that?”

He laughed softly again at how silly that sounded. “But I thought we could break with custom. Be rebels.”

The iconic thing to do would be to _be_ a rebel. Being an icon it all about rebellion. But rebellion on your terms.

“Can I give you my personal opinion?”

“Of course.”

“I think it's more polite to ask someone if you may kiss them.”

“That's what Pepper said.”

You nodded.

“I can take a hint. And I would guess that if you seem this nervous and are telling me I should ask, then the answer is already ‘no.’”

Would you have called yourself nervous? Your skin felt flush, your face felt warm… oh god, maybe you were. When was the last time a man ever made you _nervous_?

He moved a foot or so away from you.

“Smart man.”

He nodded once. The affirmatory nod of a gentleman.

“It won't always be ‘no’, by the way.”

He smiled.

“I'm just not a ‘kiss on the second date’ kind of gal.”

“What kind of gal are you?” A question asked with no maliciousness.

“The kind that prefers to be sure of things before she goes around kissing folk.”

An icon might be a rebel by nature, but a rebel knows when to be cautious.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Leave me a comment and let me know what you think!
> 
> :)


	5. Chapter 5

Most of the last hour of your park date was spent in quiet contemplation as you both watched the sunset, the rays of light moving through the leaves in a spectrum of pastels to brilliant oranges and reds until it was finally dusk. That is, until Loki started to ask you questions.

He asked you how you came to work in an office.

You told him it was mostly an accident. That you needed money to pay off your student debt; it was the first place that hired you and you couldn’t find a better paying entry-level job anywhere else.

He asked what student debt was and, after you explained it, he asked what you went to college for that had incurred such debt.

You told him it didn't matter. Your job had nothing to do with it at all and you preferred not to think about it.

“Why not?” He asked.

“I _loved_ college. I loved it. I loved the people I met there, I loved talking with other students and spending time with professors and picking their brains on every interesting thing they knew… having to deal with all this crushing debt now…”

You looked up at him. For a moment, you thought that maybe he only asked to be nice – but his expression, soft, caring, his eyes radiating kindness – attested to the sincerity of his question. His posture and expression like the gentle demeanor of a child asking why the sky was blue.

You continued. “It tarnishes those memories. They mean less when I remember that I’m going through all this for basically nothing. I want to keep them pure. I want to imagine that… maybe I didn’t saddle myself with debt for the rest of my life by attempting to do something I loved.”

He nodded. “I see.”

You sighed heavily, a familiar weight rendered from the very anxiety that surrounded your financial situation and, indeed, your whole future now pressed down upon you with the mass of several million black holes. “See, this is why I try not to think about it. Now I’m sad because I thought about it.”

“I'm sorry.”

The way he said it and the look he was giving you, this brow knit in concern, you knew he meant it.

You leaned your head back and closed your eyes. How did the pursuit of knowledge, something you loved so much as a child, end in painful menial labor in an emotionally empty exchange for capital? You hadn't even gotten to _do_ anything with your degree. The thing that you thought would give your life meaning, now meaningless.

“Would… you like me to walk you home now?”

You pulled out your phone and checked the time. “Yeah, might as well.”

You stood and he quickly folded the blanket up and handed it to you. You tucked it under your arm and led the way to the walking path, preferring not to fall on any of the tree roots you knew you were going to fall on now that it was too dark to see them.

Loki followed you as you silently led the way to the park entrance. His footsteps followed you quietly as he padded behind you, as dutiful in his attention to you now as he had been all day.

Once you reached the gate, you turned to him and held out your hand.

He looked at it for a moment before looking up at you. “Is it custom to hold hands on the second date?”

You smiled wryly. “Do you want to follow custom or do you want to rebel?”

He smiled and took your hand. “Just curious.”

“Well,” you said as you continued to lead the way, slower this time, “There's all this stuff about bases… like it's this big baseball metaphor and I don't even like sports, so I choose to ignore it.”

He chuckled. “I suppose that's fine. I've only ever watched five minutes of a game and hated it.”

“Ugh, _same_ ,” you said with an alarming amount of passion.

“What do you do when everyone else is watching sport?”

“Umm… anything but that.” You laughed.

He chuckled.

“I read a lot, I guess. Watch documentaries. I like period dramas, especially Jane Austen ones.”

“I don't know who that is.”

“She’s an Earth authoress who wrote books which starred primarily women, dealt with all sorts of emotions, and in which someone always got married before the end. They were kind of… windows into the society in which she lived. But more witty.”

An icon always recognized an icon. And Jane Austen was _the_ icon.

“You make her work sound interesting. I'll have to see if I can procure some of her books.”

“Procure away. They are _very_ good.”

“Which is your favorite?”

“No brainer. Pride and Prejudice is her best work, but I have a soft spot for Northanger Abbey. That woman could write a parody.”

“I'll get both, then.”

You smiled, wondering briefly if he was really going to buy and read them.

On you walked, hand in hand, easily the best-dressed people out and about. You had always wanted to be able to be ‘best dressed’ with someone else, but you never would have thought that the first person you'd ever meet who was on your level would be an alien. And an alien _prince_ no less. In all of the thousands of dreams you have ever had in your sleeping hours, you could not have possibly dreamed of a scenario as weird.

Somehow, with all the robot-suit wearing billionaires, genetically modified super soldiers, radioactive-spider-bitten genius teenagers, and literal fucking wizards roaming around the planet lately, the thought of outer space aliens was _still_ wild to you. Like, a literal _actual_ fuck off alien from space. If you thought about it too long you might have decided to scream and run away. The thought was completely absurd.

Though, if the complete mundanity of the last decade or so of your life were any indication, a well-dressed alien prince was the just the sort of high-level drastic shit that might actually be able to save you from a completely boring and wasted life. _Not_ that he was there to save you or anything, an icon is never so one-dimensional as to expect a man to save her, but your life had ground to such a halt that it was the appropriate level of _extra_ needed to make it seem like a life again.

Your life was Frankenstein’s creation, an amalgam of dead flesh and bad decisions sewn together in a haphazard manner with thread spun from institutional power imbalance and crushing financial burden, and he was the lightning. Blue-eyed and well-dressed with just a glimmer of mischief in his smiles, he came out of the dark recesses of the sky to shock your dead and decayed nerves into being.

Or maybe he wasn’t. After all, you were the one who, just days before, decided to treat yourself like you actually liked yourself for once and tried to throw off the shackles of monotony-induced depression for a few hours by dressing up and taking yourself on a walk. And _you_ were the one whose newfound confidence attracted the eye of a tall, dark, and handsome alien stranger from a planet that inspired an entire ancient religion.

Maybe you were your own lightning.

So maybe he wasn’t there to save you at all, but he was there to show you some very real possibilities. Like what it was like to be with someone who was utterly respectful and treated you like you deserved to be treated. What it was like to be with someone who actually took care in his appearance for once and who appreciated your boundaries. Two things that seemed very foreign to many of the men you had dated before.

Maybe an alien really was something you needed. Especially one who seemed to adore you as much as he did.

“So are you staying on Earth? Permanently, I mean.”

“I have been. Lately, I had been considering attempting to travel elsewhere, but that's difficult with the Bifrost completely destroyed and no known rebuilding in sight.”

“Ah, yes. Isn't Ragnarok supposed to last for a thousand years?’

“How did you know that?”

“I keep telling you, I know ancient Norse mythology. You should start listening to me.”

He laughed. “I'm sorry, I keep forgetting I'm in the presence of an expert.”

You smiled.

“I've been staying with Thor in Stark Tower for the time being.”

“What have you two been doing to amuse yourselves?”

“We go out on small missions together, or Thor goes out on official ones with the rest of the Avengers and I hang back. I think I still make some of them uneasy.”

“I’d say that's understandable given what you did.”

“You don't even remember it, how can you pass judgment?” He asked with a laugh.

“I am making a judgment as a neutral third party.” You said matter-of-factly. “I'm an impartial judge.”

“And how do you judge me, oh righteous and beneficent dispenser of law and order?”

 _Dun dun_ , you thought. You raised an eyebrow at him. “‘Beneficent.’ Good word.”

He gave an appreciative nod.

“I judge you as a sassy little boy, and in contempt of court.”

He chuckled. “I don't even know what that means.”

“That you're a sassy little boy?”

He smiled at you devilishly. “Contempt of court.”

“I don't know what it means either. But you hear it on TV crime dramas a lot.”

He smiled.

You stopped in front of your apartment building and turned to face him. “This is me.”

He looked to the door and then to you, perhaps a little sad. “Might I ask you on a third date?”

You looked into the distance for a second before the center of your brain that evaluates sentences at their most base level to discern what they mean kicked in before anything else.

“Did you just _ask_ if you could ask me out?”

He thought about what he had just done and laughed, smiling at you. “I suppose I just did. Well, may I ask you out again?”

You laughed. “You may.”

He chuckled. “Would you like to go out with me on a third date?”

“Are you pointing out the number of the date because I said I don’t kiss on second dates?”

 “It was unintentional, I swear.” He laughed softly.

You narrowed your eyes at him jokingly as if you didn’t believe him, and he mirrored the action.

“I suppose so.” You stepped up onto the first step of the outdoor steps up to your building.

He stepped up as well. “Running away?”

“The date’s over isn’t it?”

He smiled. “It doesn’t have to be if you don’t want it to be.”

You smiled, in a somewhat mean manner. “It appears that we’re done.”

His features softened. “It appears we are.” He brought your hand up to his lips and kissed the back of it, lingering for a moment as he looked up into your eyes.

You couldn’t help but blush again.

As he let your hand go he smiled again.

“You’re trying to make me blush on purpose.”

“Maybe.” He leaned closer, “You look so damned cute when you do.”

Now you were bright red.

He looked from your lips to your eyes and back again. He kissed your hand once more and stepped back to the sidewalk. “Send me a text when you decide where we should go on our third date.” He winked and strode away, one hand in his pocket and one hooked through the handle of the picnic basket, humming a happy tune.

You had a hard time reconciling the idea that this man had once tried to rule earth via invasion with a militaristic alien species with the image of him currently humming happily to himself as he strolled down the street. And there _must_ be something about bad guys that made them all such good dressers. Seriously, what was that about?

At some point, you had to have taken your keys out because the one to the door was already in your hand, and you must have climbed the stairs because you were standing right in front of your apartment door. You wondered how he could have thrown you so hard that you somehow didn’t remember this. You remembered he was the god of mischief in Norse mythology and as you opened your door, you wondered if he could have cast some illusory spell on you.

You peeked into your darkened apartment. You reached one hand along the wall and flipped the switch. It seemed normal. You looked around the hallway, not out of suspicion but out of hoping no one was watching you be foolish, and then stepped into the apartment.

It was disappointingly normal. You threw your bag onto the couch and made your way to the bedroom, kicked off your shoes and flopped onto the bed. Your phone buzzed.

Loki: Miss me?

_How dare he._

You: Not in the slightest.

You: I thought you were going to wait for me to text you.

Loki: :)

 

* * *

 

Of course, because Loki knew all the back ways and secret ‘doors’ on Earth at this point, he was already back at Stark Tower. He sat with Peter at the kitchen island the Avengers and co. normal congregated around. After all, a group of adults who were normally fighting numerous villains were basically always hungry.

Peter sat with his knees up to his chest, chewing on his pencil. “I just, maybe it’s too soon? Maybe you should give her a day?”

His suit spoke so only he could hear.

“I know, Karen but—”

“If your suit is going to have an opinion, she might as well make herself loud enough for me to hear it,” Loki said sternly.

Peter rolled his eyes. “Karen do you have a—”

“I can, in fact, use your suit’s vocal speakers to make myself heard to those outside of your suit.”

“What did you tell Peter?” Loki asked.

“I said that you should tell her how you feel.”

“And I think it’s still too soon,” Peter added.

Loki considered this for a moment. “She wanted me to be honest with her during our date, so I told her everything.”

Peter screwed his face up in confusion. “What do you mean by ‘everything’?”

Loki laughed softly. “When we first met, she wasn’t aware of who I was. Apparently.”

“How could she not know? You set aliens loose on New York City! Doesn’t she live here?”

“She was on vacation in Peru at the time and I suppose they reported on it less.”

Peter was dumbfounded to hear this. Of course, most countries would lend more airtime to things in their own borders or things that seemed more important to them. Sokovia was probably still running near 24-hour coverage of their incident, while the United States barely mentioned it these days. But the thought had never really occurred to him that this might be the case before now.

“Huh,” he said, not knowing what else to say. “Wow, uh… and she’s fine with it?”

“She said she probably should hate me, but doesn’t. She seems to have a somewhat bleak view of life.”

Peter nodded.

“Amazing fashion sense though.”

He perked up. “Is—”

“Is that something that is important to you?” Karen asked.

Loki looked at Peter’s expression with amusement.

Internally, Peter yelled at himself for being too lazy to take his suit off before talking to other people.

“It is, actually. I believe a person should take care of their appearance. Not that they should dress for others, but that they should attire themselves in a way that makes them happy.”

Peter narrowed his eyes before asking, “So that's why you wear a helmet with horns and had a coat with random pointless armor bits when you invaded earth?”

“Listen, Parker, just because you don’t understand fashion--”

“Did you tell her that?” Karen interrupted before Peter could say anything back.

“I've told her before that I thought she looked amazing.”

“But did you tell her that you like her taste in fashion in general?”

Loki thought for a moment. “…No. Should I?”

Peter sighed. “Karen is trying to make a case for you to tell her how you feel about her.”

“You know me very well, Peter.”

“Well, you’re my suit, Karen, I don’t exactly have a choice.”

Loki laughed. “If you really think I should tell her how I feel, I’ll tell her on our next date. This texting is _so_ impersonal.”

 

* * *

 

You: I thought you were waiting until I messaged you about our next date?

Loki: If that meant I had to wait days to talk to you, then it couldn’t wait.

Loki: I couldn’t wait.

You looked at your phone and tilted your head. He was openly admitting that he couldn’t wait to talk to you again? There mustn’t be a rule like ‘wait three days before you send her a raven’ or whatever way they communicated on Asgard. You wondered what dating must be like there. But… the last guy you had gone out with was so aloof, this was a welcome change.

You: You couldn’t wait to talk to me?

Loki: Well, I wouldn’t really call this ‘talking.’

Loki: But I can’t wait to see you again.

You: You’re very upfront with your emotions, aren’t you?

Loki: Someone once told me that it was best to be honest.

You: Someone?

Loki: :)

You smiled at your phone.

You: Well, I don’t have any idea just now, so you’re going to have to wait until I think of a place to go to on our next date.

You: Saturday, I think. But I don’t know where.

Loki: Fair enough.

You: I need to go to sleep. I have work tomorrow.

Loki: All right. I hope work isn’t too boring for you.

You: Hours of sitting under fluorescent lighting until my ass goes numb?

You: Be still my heart.

Loki: Haha. Good night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Leave a comment and let me know if you like it! :)


	6. Chapter 6

Somewhere, deep inside your heart or your subconscious or whatever part of your body it was that held deeply seated beliefs, you hoped that your day wouldn’t be boring. Barring another alien invasion, fascist robot outbreak, or some other supervillain plot, you hoped something interesting would happen to break up the monotony of the day. As you held onto the strap on the subway, the jostling of the train car like the soft cradling of a parent – a metal parent that screamed when it came to a stop – you hoped that maybe your work day wouldn’t be as boring as usual.

The ride up the elevator didn't make any promises, and you were quickly at your floor and moments later, at your desk.

There was already a stack of papers that needed to be taken care of.

You got to it.

For almost four hours you sent emails, made calls, and sent the occasional fax as you worked your way through the memos on your desk. ‘Contact John Sanderson about his account,’ ‘Call Marie Childs and convince her not to close her account,’ ‘Fax the information about the Standler account over to Richard Dixon.’ It must be nice to be so rich that your account was referred to by your name, and not by its number.

And because you were a child, you snorted at the combination first and last of names. Richard Dixon? _‘Dick Dixon’_? Who would do that to their kid?

As you made your way into the last third of the memos, your manager made a beeline past your desk and dropped a sheet down onto the top of your pile. You picked it up and watched as he made his way past everyone's desk, dropping new work right onto their half-finished stacks of memos. You weren't even people anymore, you were a bank of sentient computers, who could only carry out the commands on the memos for eight hours a day before being released from your servitude.

It sucked.

You looked back down at the paper. The heading was weird. A strangely ancient style of art which went with the also ancient-looking font that was chosen for the name. ‘Lokkanät,’ the company name read and you narrowed your eyes in suspicion. Your cursory understanding of Swedish meant you were more than aware that the word meant ‘cobweb’ but directly translated to ‘web of Lokke,’ and you already knew the implications of the name ‘Lokke,’ as it was another form of Loki.

Something was going on.

And it was not sneaky.

You stood up out of your chair ever so slightly, enough to be able to see over your cubicle, but not enough to draw notice to yourself. You looked around. You saw your coworkers working diligently as they steadily burned through their memos, drudge work that could easily be accomplished by a computer system or outsourcing that for whatever reason hadn’t been switched to either. Maybe the CEO actually had a conscience, or maybe the outsourced workers had finally unionized, who knew. You continued to look around, nothing out of the ordinary as far as your coworkers went.

At the other end of the room though, you could see someone signing for a package.

How the hell did a UPS guy get up to your floor? They were supposed to drop things off at the front desk, weren't they? It was when you noticed he had shoulder-length black hair tied back in a ponytail that you knew what was happening.

You stood up, noisily pushing your chair out from under you, and quickly took your headset off. You looked down at the remains of your pile of memos - it was nearly finished - and decided that it was the perfect time for a break. You walked, as nonchalantly as possible, to the other end of the office. You cursed internally as the ‘UPS guy’ bid the signer farewell and turned to head back to the elevators. You quickened your pace. As you were about to round the corner to make your way to the elevators the coworker who signed for the package said your name and your attention snapped to him.

“What?” You tried very hard not to look annoyed that he called you.

“Just the person I was looking for, this is for you.”  He held out the blister pack and waited for you to take it.

You did, nodded thanks and continued on your path out of the office.

There was no one by the elevators and you sighed. If it _was_ him, he wouldn't have made it that easy. You opened the package since you had no idea where he went. He could have disappeared into thin air for all you knew, and he probably did.

You tore the tab of the package open and dumped its contents into your hand.

A box.

A jewelry box, by its dimensions.

Your heart was suddenly racing. Why the hell did he send this? And why not just give it to you? Why bring it to your work? How did he even know where you worked?

The last question was easy enough to answer, you figured that Tony Stark had some kind of database he could access to find people. Or maybe he accessed the files at Homeland Security. Hooray for a country unwarrantedly spying on its own citizens, huh? The answers to the other two questions though…

Hey, NSA guy who watches me, hope the wife and kids are doing well.

You: Where are you?

Loki: Stark tower, why?

You: A guy who looked suspiciously like you just dropped off a package for me. Care to comment?

Loki: Interesting. Did you open it?

You: I opened the package but not the box.

Loki: You should open the box.

You: So you DO know something about this.

Loki: I just think that, if someone sends someone something that comes in a jewelry box, one should open that box.

You: How do you know it’s a jewelry box?

You: And that might be the most vague sentence I've ever read in my life. Thanks, I hate it.

Loki: lol

As you stood by the elevators wondering at how you managed to date someone whom you could actually say the phrase ‘You're incorrigible’ to – and hopefully he would know the meaning of the word – your phone buzzed again.

‘Vexed’ wasn’t a word you normally used, but by damn, you felt it.

Loki: You should open the box.

You sighed, looked around, and ducked into the bathroom so you could continue to freak out in peace.

You threw the blister pack out in the garbage and ran to the mirrors. You placed the jewelry box on the counter and stared at it for a moment. What was his game? _Was_ this a game? Was this all a joke to him?

You looked at yourself in the mirror for a moment. You could see the anxiety as it permeated your features. Yesterday everything seemed so calm and nice and lovely, and now you wondered… you just _wondered_.

You heard the door open and grabbed the box and ducked into a stall so you could open it in private.

 

* * *

 

Loki was sat in the kitchen of Tony’s apartment in Stark Tower. He delighted in the messages that were appearing on his phone’s screen, although he was trying to play coy. Pepper, bored as Tony was away on Avengers business, had made them both something she called ‘avocado toast.’ Loki couldn’t tell if he liked it or not, as it had a faint smell of how Thor’s boots smelled after a long day of Avengering.

If that was a word.

“Why is there a UPS hat on the couch?” Pepper asked from the living room.

Loki smiled and chucked his second piece of avocado toast into the garbage from his spot at the counter.

 

* * *

 

You waited a few moments. You didn’t want to open a present – jewelry – in a bathroom stall, that was terribly uncouth. How could you face anyone, knowing that this was the “bathroom necklace”? And worse, what if you dropped it in the toilet? Even worse, _what if you dropped your phone in the toilet?_

You left the stall and made your way to the stairwell. Now you had _real_ quiet, and you could sit on a stair instead of trying not to drop things into the toilet. For a moment, you wondered if anyone might be looking for you, but you could just lie and say it was ‘women stuff’ and they would leave you alone about it. Everyone as so determined to stay out of each other’s business in the office, it was amazing. The greatest lack of community you had ever seen.

Except for Grace. Grace was constantly in everybody’s business, literally all the time. You half expected her to open the stairwell door and open the box herself.

You waited a moment, eyes on the door.

…Okay, never mind. You really were alone.

You held the box. It was rectangular, which you thought meant it would be either a bracelet or a necklace. You hesitated. _He’s the trickster god of chaos, what if this was a prank?_ You took out your phone.

You: IF SNAKES JUMP OUT OF THIS BOX I WILL ACTUALLY KILL YOU

Loki: I’m never going to surprise you with anything, ever again.

Loki: Just open it.

_FINE._ You thought, almost angrily as you slid the ribbon off the box and opened it.

_Holy shit._

“Holy shit,” you reflexively said as you opened the box all the way. He had definitely picked up on your tastes. Your earlier guess was right, it was a necklace, but there was no way you could have guessed it was this beautiful.

You: Are these stones what I think they are?

Loki: FINALLY

Loki: And if you’re thinking, “Are these rather large garnets?” The answer is “Yes.”

You smiled at your phone but his sassiness made you decide that you wouldn’t dignify him with a response just yet.

Instead, you took the necklace out. It was a choker. Three large garnets a little larger than quarters sliced in half were showcased across the middle of the necklace, encased around their edges by some kind of darkened metal, silver perhaps, allowing them to be connected to each other. The stones that framed them, one on either side, were some kind of similarly halved stone, but black and smaller, maybe tourmalines or something. It was… _showy_ in the way that royal jewelry from ancient eras sometimes was; clunkier, yes, and maybe less detailed, but ostentatious just the same. The necklace was clasped already, and in a show of high fashion ideals, the decorative chain that chokers normally had stopped _way_ past the clasp, ending in another, smaller garnet that would sit halfway down the wearer’s back.

And just-- _holy shit_. You held the garnets so the light could refract through them, and you realized you had never seen stones so deeply luminous before. They were such a dark red, and yet they were still bright enough to see their color from far away. Their natural dodecahedral shape bounced light through them perfectly, and they were unusually transparent for their size.

They were exquisite.

Your phone buzzed.

Loki: What do you think?

You thought for a moment. It _was_ gorgeous and something that you could only ever hope to wear.

You: Where did you get it?

Loki: Did you hear about the excavation in Sweden a year ago?

Loki: Thor had decided to pick up a few of our family heirlooms from when we visited Earth while your ‘Viking period’ was happening, and showed researchers where a new hoard was?

You: Vividly, yes.

Loki: You didn't know who I was, but you paid attention to that? Lol

You: I have a special interest in ancient Norse history. Please continue.

Loki: Well, the garnets were originally in a gold setting, but I knew it wouldn't match anything you own. The tourmalines are new.

You: You destroyed an ancient necklace to make me a new one?

Loki: It was a kind of circlet, and it was in pieces.

Loki: Remember also, to me it's old, but not that old.

You had a thought. A very strange thought. You had to ask.

You: How old ARE you?

Loki: lol

Loki: A little over a millennium.

Which was weirder? That you were holding garnets that came from an ancient Norse burial mound, or that the guy you were seeing was over a thousand years old? The stones were probably in that mound for about as long as he was alive.

_Jesus Christ_.

Your grip on the necklace made your knuckles turn white as you found yourself seized with a strange kind of panic. Could you really continue to date him? What the hell made you think you could do this? Did this technically make him a pedophile? You had to be a baby by how his race aged -- literal alien race, you reminded yourself. Or did it not matter because you were both adults of your own species? You suddenly felt like you were playing Mass Effect or something. The situation was so weird.

Your phone buzzed again, startling you out of your thoughts.

Loki: You never told me if you liked it.

You: You're SURE you didn't destroy an ancient artifact to make me a necklace?

Loki: Absolutely sure. The circlet was so damaged it was never even considered for display and when I asked if I could take the stones out they practically threw it at me.

You: No lies?

Loki: Cross my heart. Peter tells me that’s a thing humans say.

You: Peter?

Loki: Spiderman.

Of course.

You: It's beautiful but I have to go back to work, I'm guessing I'm going to end up in trouble in a few seconds.

Loki: No you won't.

You: That’s nice of you to say so, but I have to go back to my desk.

You put your phone back in your pocket and put the necklace back in the box, sliding the ribbon into place. You hoped that your manager wasn't looking for you at all, and made your way back to your desk.

When you got there, you had to stop from screaming. Seated at your desk was a copy of you, who appeared to be miming your actions while you were at work, taking a call, typing on the computer, reorganizing papers. You looked around, and no one seemed to notice there were two of you. You tried to touch your double’s hand, and when your fingers went through it, you sat quickly, dissipating the illusion.

_This was obviously his doing._

You placed the jewelry box on the desk and put your headset back on. You fished all the memos that commanded you to email people and put them at the top of the pile, then you took out your phone.

You: How the HELL did you do that?

You started typing the first email. A form email like all the others, you had to read the memo for the particulars. ‘Mary McCall still hasn't gotten back to the company about her account and your manager is worried she could be bringing her money to--’

Loki: Do what?

You: Don't play coy. That doppelganger-- illusion-- thing. How did you do that?

‘--another company. Let her know that she is both a valued and important client of--’

Loki: Ahh, I believe I know what you're talking about. Just a little trick my mother taught me.

You: How did you do it?

‘--of the organization. Don't use the word ‘client’ though, you need to make her feel special. Use--’

Loki: She taught me the kind of magic she used. I don't know if I can explain it. And certainly not over texts.

‘--a word that lets her know she's important and that makes her feel special.’

You couldn't think of what word to use. You were not at all emotionally invested in this interaction with ‘Mary’ whoever she was, and had no idea what words might spur her not to close her account. You basically had to fool her into thinking that the company you work for gave a shit about her, when all they wanted was her money. You were sure they would be just as happy as if she just forked all of it over and resigned herself to a life of ascetic hermitage. You _so_ didn’t care.

You picked up your phone.

You: How the fuck is this my life right now? I currently have a necklace that has to be worth thousands of dollars, and the circlet the stones came from probably cost millions in cultural value, just sitting in a box on my desk.

You: And I'm somehow supposed to ignore it and continue sending my emails and making my calls to people begging them not to close her account, not even because the company needs the money, the company HAS money, but because they want more money so they can invest it and make EVEN MORE MONEY. I am a peon digging the mounds of shit on the lands owned by the king.

You: And somehow the guy I'm dating is a fucking alien sorcerer or some shit who was seen as a literal god by people on my planet for hundreds if not thousands of years.

You: WHAT THE FUCK?

A voice above you cleared, and you looked up.

It was a bad look, hunched over your phone typing furiously while _your manager_ was eyeballing you, and after a few minutes, he decided to get your attention.

You desperately hoped he hadn’t seen what you were typing.

“Are you paid to play with your phone or are you paid to work?”

Your phone buzzed in your hand and you shoved it into the desk drawer. “Sorry, Mr. Housemann.”

“You haven’t finished your calls, why are you looking at your phone.”

“I have a sick family member and another family member was just updating me on their condition.”

Why the hell were you lying?

“That’s too bad. Listen, are you free this Saturday? I need a few people to come to the Museum gala to talk to our clients and talk up the company, make sure they’re happy, that sort of thing.”

He wanted you to work… _on a Saturday._

“Would it count as overtime?”

He narrowed his eyes at you. “Yes.”

You sighed. You supposed you would need the extra money if you were going to keep up with the lifestyle that you presumed Loki was accustomed to. His suits had to be hundreds if not thousands of dollars apiece. Your phone buzzed again inside your desk drawer.

“Fine. I’ll be there.”

“Good. Wear something nice.”

And with that, he walked away.

You waited until he left the office area and you took your phone back out.

Loki: You sure know how to make a guy feel good about himself ;)

Loki: Have you thought of a place for us to go to for our next date?

You: It’s funny you should mention that. I just found out I’m working Saturday.

Loki: Why?

You: My company has this gala thing every year where they invite all their clients and some of us have to go schmooze with them and make sure they’ll keep their accounts with us.

You: Someone canceled so I have to take their place.

There you were, lying again. An icon shouldn’t lie… but right now you felt less like an icon and more like a person between a rock and a hard place. Yeah, you liked Loki; he was charming and devilish and good looking and once he finally started being honest, candid and truthful he was basically everything you wanted. But he was also a centuries-old alien from another planet who had disguised himself as a UPS guy earlier to bring a priceless necklace to you at your job. That struck you ass dreadfully sneaky. And if he really was at a god-tier level of sneakiness, there was no way you’d be able to keep up.

You were so _not_ on his level that it wasn’t even funny, he was literal royalty and you were basically a modern serf.

You wondered if he could tell you were lying.

You: Sorry. Maybe Sunday.

Loki: That’s too bad.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Leave a comment and let me know if you like it! :)


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> C/W: This chapter has a little bit of physical assault. It's not super bad, but I know some people find that uncomfortable. (And honestly, it's inspired by something that happened to me and I was slightly uncomfortable while writing it.) 
> 
> If you don't want to read the chapter because of it, I'll understand. Just know that it is referenced in the future (with a heaping helping of schadenfreude).

When you went shopping for your dress, you hoped that, if you bought something that was enough your style, you’d actually be able to wear it later and could thus justify the price tag. At least you could fool yourself into being _kind of, sort of okay_ with the price tag. You’d at least be able to wear it later on a date with Loki.

If you two even went on another date.

You sort of wished you hadn’t lied, but maybe distance was a good thing. What’s the point in getting so worked up about him when he’d probably just find another, better person to date? Someone who was also an alien maybe with blue skin who was bustier or taller or richer than you were. Or all three. Someone who was probably more like what he was used to. Especially the ‘richer’ part.

Before you went to pay for your dress – a deep cranberry number, slinky and fairly plain, but it hugged your curves like it loved you – you checked your bank app only to see that you had used all the money in your debit account, _again_. You sighed and pulled out your credit card. Now the dress was just another thing that you would be paying for later. It had better be worth it.

As you got ready, you looked at yourself in the mirror. Was your life better before you had met him? Maybe, at least you didn’t have _one more_ thing making you feel like you were poor as fuck, or at least in debt as fuck. But maybe not. He was, at least, charming and interesting. And very into you.

Your hair and makeup done, you slipped into your dress and put on the necklace he had given you. It really was beautiful. You couldn’t believe it was yours. You looked at yourself again in the mirror. All dressed up like you were, you almost looked like someone who was important, someone who meant something to the greater world instead of being just another nameless face in the crowd. Just another schmo whose back hurt too much from sitting in a desk chair all day, and whose eyes ached from staring at a computer screen and being under the fluorescent lights.

Whatever.

You were going to a gala that you were only invited to so you could schmooze with people who had more money than you would ever see in your entire tiny life. As you put your shoes on you made a decision: tonight, you were in disguise as someone who was more important than you really were.

This wasn’t like a few days ago when you met the god of mischief, that was an extension of yourself. A butterfly unfurling its wings after breaking out of its chrysalis. That was freedom and beauty and truth.

This was slavery to the almighty dollar. This was giving up your free time so the clients of the company you worked for could be soothed and the stockholders could benefit. This had nothing to do with you as a person. This was shackling of the human spirit and ugliness and lies.

Tonight, you pretended to be someone you weren’t so you could talk about things you didn’t care about with people you innately hated to make them keep their money – money you’d never see – with a company you did /not/ care for.

You made your way outside to where your cab was waiting.

You wondered when the revolution would begin.

 

* * *

 

The gala was…

Well, it was a gala. A bunch of very rich people using charity as an excuse to hang out and be very rich together in one room. The conversations you heard as you made your way through the crowd seemed to be the expected ‘But I don’t understand why they need to _protest_ about it,’ and ‘That’s when we bought our eighth yacht,’ type of conversations that the very rich normally had. At least, what you expected they normally had because people with so much money and not enough to do could only ever be wildly out of touch and constantly buying things. Though, you did think that you passed by a man who was talking about trying to buy the find of a recent archeological dig in Egypt, and the Egyptian government was giving him hell for it.

Good.

Fuck that guy.

You grabbed something to eat from the few servers who moved through the crowd offering hors d'oeuvres, feeling immediately that you had more in common with them than anyone else in the room. You smiled at them and thanked them.

You spent an hour or two talking to people, mostly women as you heard a few of the conversations the men were having and, well, you didn’t want to think about it. If the women there were actually malicious, they were at least doing a much better job of hiding it than the men who noticeably took a moment to look you up and down like you were a piece of meat as you walked past them.

You tried as hard as you could to not say or do anything that could possibly clue anyone in to the fact that you were _obviously_ not supposed to be there. Not just in a class way, but you felt that maybe in a moral way you were opposed to all the people in the room on an intrinsic level and wished that you could leave.

Every fifteen minutes or so your boss appeared somewhere in your vision, and you figured he must be walking around making sure that you and whoever else he roped into being there were actually doing as you were being paid to do and not _actually_ enjoying yourself.

You know, at a party.

That thing that’s meant to be enjoyed.

Every time you saw him you wished you had a watch so you could see how much longer you had to be there. The deal, which had been ironed out later in the week, was for you to stay from eight to twelve which made you deeply regret saying yes.

But you needed the money and this was double the pay so… here you were. Against all your better judgment.

Feeling lonely in a roomful of people, you went to the bathroom to hide for a few minutes. A legitimate excuse because you had to use the bathroom but you also wanted to check your phone. Loki had been mysteriously silent all week. Yes, you wanted space at least… you had /thought/ you wanted space. Not hearing from him all week made you wonder what was going on. Maybe your little whirlwind romantic weekend was just a weird interlude and he came to his senses after giving you the necklace. Maybe he was more of the love ‘em and leave ‘em type and was hiding his annoyance at not having gotten in your pants. Maybe he really did like you but thought you didn’t like him at all and decided to cut his losses. Or maybe he found someone better; some blue-skinned, super-rich alien princess who looked like an intergalactic supermodel, as old as he was and so much more on his level in every way.

You decided to push the thought out of your head. If you dwelled on it too long, you might have to admit that you really did like him and then you might start crying, and you didn’t want to ruin your makeup. You took a deep breath and left the bathroom, and made your way back to where you were before.

Before you did though, you were stopped by a man whose name was strange to you, but whose face you recognized.

“You don’t belong here, do you?”

You winced, hoping it wasn’t visible. He was one of the men you saw look you up and down earlier.

“What do you mean I ‘don’t belong here’? I was invited.”

He smiled.

You hated it.

“You don’t walk – or sound – like the other women here,” he said as he circled around you. You had never been attacked by a shark before, but you guessed the moment leading up to being savaged by one felt like this. “I can tell. You’re one of the employees of the company.”

“And if I am?”

“That means you don’t belong here. You did a good job of pretending though.”

As he spoke he touched the choker Loki had given you. At first you thought he might be appraising it, perhaps wondering how you came about owning it, but when his hand rested on the join between your neck and your shoulder you _knew_ that wasn’t what he was looking at.

“Pretending?” You asked.

He nodded. “You did a good job at pretending you’re someone you’re not.”

You wished you could rip his arm out of his socket, break his fingers, knee him in the groin, _anything_ , but you remembered that the police were very much a real thing and that this guy had enough money to sue you into oblivion.

“So what are you? Social climber? Just another middle-class bitch trying to climb their way to the top in any way they can?” He leaned in closer.

You wanted to back up but his grip on your neck left you unable to.

“I’m pretty sure I’m working poor, so—”

“Even better.”

As panic set in you were completely frozen. This was happening to you and there wasn’t a fucking thing you could possibly do about it. You were _way_ out of your depth in every way, and this asshole knew it. He was probably lying in wait for a moment he could get you alone.

You felt someone grip your attacker’s wrist.

“Excuse me,” a familiar voice said. Your eyes, which had been glued to the man who you were positive was about to try and force himself on you, shot over to the speaker.

_Loki_.

“I believe the lady is uncomfortable.”

He moved away from you, hand still on your neck. “Who the hell are you?”

Loki smiled. “A concerned citizen. I’ll thank you to remove your hand from this woman.”

The man looked from Loki to you. It took every shred of willpower you had to not cry.

“Do you know this asshole?”

Before you could answer, Loki tightened his grip on the man’s wrist. “Don’t make me ask again.”

In the weekend you saw him, whenever he smiled it was always kind, charming, loving. Right now, he looked like a snake that was already bearing its fangs, ready to strike. He inclined his head, his brow lowering over his eyes making him appear all the more sinister.

It suddenly occurred to you that you didn’t even know this guy’s name, and he put his hand around your neck as if he owned you. Whatever his name was he finally let go, and as he let go, so did Loki. Loki moved to your side and protectively put his hand on your other shoulder as the guy left and went back into the crowd of people.

Loki hurried you behind the wall that separated the lounge and bathrooms from the greater ball area.

“Are you alright?” He asked as he looked into your eyes and then checked your neck for a bruise.

You shook your head no.

“Are you going into shock?”

You shrugged, and couldn’t help but to start crying.

“I know,” he said as his arms enveloped you. “I know, I know.”

He rocked you in his arms for a few moments.

“I’m so sorry. I had asked Tony if he knew of any financing companies who were having a gala for their clients today and wanted to surprise you. I should have gotten here sooner.”

You shook your head. “It’s not your fault.”

“It is.” He let you go and took hold of your hands, holding them firmly in his own. “I could have been here to wait for you as you were in the bathroom, anything so no one thought they could… could… _touch you_.”

The words left his lips angrily. You looked up at him. His expression wasn’t one of malice, but of hurt. His eyes were wide but his brow was knit in worriment. His grip on your hands tightened reflexively as if he was again asking if you were okay.

“It’s not your fault.”

“But what if I wasn’t here?”

“I… I don’t know. But it’s not as if you could put me in a cage to keep me safe.”

He smiled weakly. “How did something like what just happened happen and you’re still so… logical?”

“I think I’m compartmentalizing.”

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

“I’m… I’m not. I hate the implications of what he said to me. I hate that he put his hand on me as if I was his. I wish I could have done something and not suffered the consequences.”

“’Consequences?’”

“I’m told murder is illegal.”

He chuckled, your answer catching him off guard. He smiled the kind, gentle, smile you had gotten used to. “I’ve been told the same.”

The corner of your mouth couldn’t help but be tugged back into a small smile. “I wish I could leave, but I can’t if I want to get paid.”

Loki’s expression was once again of concern. You watched as his expression vanished, replaced by a devilish smile as he stifled a laugh. “I have an idea if you’re up to it.”

“What?”

 

* * *

 

Loki’s idea was ‘scare the shit out of that asshole’ – not how he worded it – and it involved him following the guy around for the rest of the night. The guy was talking to a friend? Loki was there. The guy was putting a few canapes onto a plate for himself? Loki was also at the table, getting food. The guy was at the urinal? Loki was suddenly next to him. (You didn’t see that one but he told you about it later.)

You were still somewhat shaken, but you watched from afar – in between talking with clients – and delighted every time the guy looked up or turned to see the movement he saw out the corner of his eye, only to see Loki, standing there, grinning at him like a deranged person. Once or twice you saw the guy jump, and it served him right. His terror delighted you.

_Fuck that guy_.

You don’t know how, but this went completely undetected by the other people in the room.

Around 11:30, a distinct voice called your attention as you spoke with a client. “Excuse me, miss, but I believe we know each other.”

You turned around, the woman you were speaking to turned to the man she was with and continued her sentence. You weren’t surprised to see that she could get over the loss of your ‘witty repertoire’ so easily. You wondered what you would do without her though, you had _so_ wanted to hear about what she went through in Hawaii to ban the locals from walking on the beach in front of her house. The beach was almost two miles away, but damn it, how dare people be on it when they might be seen from one of her many balconies.

“Do we?” You smiled.

Loki smiled back warmly. “I believe we do.”

In all the terror of the situation earlier, you hadn’t gotten a good look at him or what he was wearing. He had on a three-piece suit made from a deep olive-green jacquard fabric that, when it reflected the light, displayed its same-colored pattern of leaves. It lent him a slightly magical air that you felt suited him, not in the least because he had come to your rescue out of thin air earlier. His shirt was a sage color, and the tie he wore had a pattern that you immediately identified as Morris & Co.’s Seaweed wallpaper pattern, a good choice for a museum gala. As usual, he cut a fine figure in his clothes and was so well put together that you felt immensely outclassed.

But you couldn’t help but admit to yourself that you had missed not talking to him all week.

“That necklace looks beautiful on you, by the way. It matches your dress very well.”

The jackass part of your brain took over much quicker than any other portion, and you couldn’t help yourself. “Oh, this old thing?” You asked as you modeled for a moment.

He laughed.

You regretted it. You touched your fingertips to the deep red stones of your choker. Together they should be heavy, but it was so comfortable you had nearly forgotten you had it on.

“Thank you. I love it.”

He smiled. “Would you like to get out of here?”

“I’m supposed to work until twelve to get overtime—”

You were interrupted by your manager making his way over. “Are you--? _The_ Loki? Thor’s brother?”

Loki looked at you a moment before turning to him. “I am,” he smiled affably and held out his hand.

Your manager shook his hand so vigorously that you thought he might pull his arm out of his socket.

“It is _very_ nice to meet you! I wasn’t aware you were one of our clients.”

“I’m not. You might say I’m ‘party crashing’.”

You subdued a laugh. You couldn’t believe the words passed his lips.

Your manager smiled. “Well, any brother of an Avenger is welcome to become one of our clients. Right?” He elbowed you happily, clearly seeing dollar signs.

“Sure…” you said, backing up so you could shake your head ‘no’ without him seeing. Loki smiled as you slid back to where you had been standing.

“If you don’t mind, I was just talking to one of your employees. She was telling me all about how lovely you are to your clients.”

“Clients? We like to think of them as _friends_.”

You wanted to throw up from how disgustingly nice your boss was being. All fake.

Loki looked at you impishly. “’Friends’, you say? Well, that’s my kind of financial intuition.”

You were somewhat bewildered, but not at all surprised, when Mr. Housemann grabbed you by the arm to pull you aside. “Excuse us a moment.”

He pulled you over to the food table, the hem of your dress nearly catching under your feet.

“You need to convince him to open an account with us.”

“What?”

“Imagine how much _money_ he has!” He whispered harshly but forcefully as he pointed a finger at your face. “We need to get it. Our stockholders would lose their minds if we had money like that to invest.”

You stared at him in disbelief.

“If you get him to open an account with us, I will promote you.”

_A promotion_. Off of the grey cubicled floor and onto a floor with real offices… and _windows_. Higher pay. Less work. Well, slightly less. It wasn’t all you ever wanted, but it was much better than you’ve had for a long time. You couldn’t believe what you were hearing. It was like a dream. A beautiful dream in which you were at least in _less_ debt and could maybe even afford another vacation.

That’s when the guy from earlier – you wish you had gotten his name – the one who had accosted you, loomed into view on the other side of the table for you knew not _what_ reason. Your brain came screeching back to reality with all the fury of a thousand suns.

“No.”

“What?”

“No.”

Housemann gripped your arm tighter. “Why not?”

“Because I quit.”

“ _What_?” He asked incredulously.

“I! QUIT!” You screamed for all to hear.

The people around you stopped talking and turned. The silence was like a wave as people noticed the people next to them had stopped talking and were paying attention to something. The musicians stopped. The waitstaff, more perceptive than the people attending the party, were all craning their necks to see what was going on.

Loki stepped out of the crowd and stood next to you, much to your boss’ terror.

“I quit! That man,” you pointed an accusatory finger at your attacker, “put his hands on me earlier and solicited me, and now you want me to convince Loki of Asgard to invest with us because you want _his_ money now? Who /cares/! I have no idea how he even pays for anything! The people around us are literal slime who own twelve yachts, are trying to grave rob Egypt, and kick Hawaiians off their own beaches, and all you care about is getting _more_ money so you can gamble with it on the stock market and get your investors more money so they’ll give you – oh my god, big surprise – _more money_! I’m so fucking sick of it! I’m calling H.R. on Monday to tell them what happened. I’m _out_.”

The shock of being yelled at by you had caused Housemann to lose his grip on your arm, and you hiked up your dress and pushed your way through the crowd. You turned around and waited for Loki after realizing he wasn’t right behind you.

Loki smiled to your boss, picked up one of the hors d'oeuvres that was stabbed through with a decorative metal stick and held the food in his teeth while he slid the stick out. He threw it so hard that it embedded itself in the table, right in front of your attacker’s balls. He smiled to both of them as he munched his snack and then followed behind you as you led the way out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Leave a comment and let me know if you like it! :)


	8. Chapter 8

The two of you walked for a while. When you complained your feet were starting to hurt from your heels, he pulled a pair of shoes out of the æther for you. Loafers in black crushed velvet, you were surprised that they fit you as you slipped them on. He took your shoes from you and carried them as the two of you walked, your hand linked in his arm.

“Feeling better?”

“They're quite comfortable.”

“I don't mean the shoes.”

You sighed. “Yeah. So… I quit my job.”

He smiled empathetically. “I'm sorry.”

You looked up at him.

“I wasn't there to stop that man from putting his hands on you and I should have stopped you and told you I would invest in the company.”

“He offered me a promotion if I landed you as a client.”

He stopped and sighed. “I should have told him ‘yes.’”

“Listen, I have been working there for years and I have _hated_ every fucking second of it.” You continued walking, and urged him with a tug of his arm. “The only thing I’ve gotten out of it was money, and yeah, that’s great and whatever, but each paycheck was just a drop in the bucket of what I have to pay off.”

He watched you as you walked, eyes straight ahead.

“It was just all so fucking pointless.”

“You know—”

Shrieks pierced the air as five girls noticed the two of you. Shouts of ‘Oh my god! Oh my god!’ and ‘I can’t believe it’s you!’ populated the area around you.

As they ran over you turned to Loki quickly and asked, “Does this normally happen to you?”

“I normally use an illusion to make myself appear differently, but I have to admit, I was stressed and forgot.”

The girls pushed past you so they could get his autograph, herding you to the edge of the sidewalk.

He smiled genially. In between signing their autograph books and taking selfies with them, he watched you out of the corner of his eye to see if you were okay.

You tilted your head back and inhaled the night air. You coughed. This was Manhattan, the air was disgusting, what the fuck were you thinking? Maybe that was the problem. Maybe you weren’t thinking. How could you just quit your job, loudly, in front of an entire ballroom of people?

You remembered the hands of that guy around your neck. And what the fuck was his name? It made it so much harder to hate him since you couldn’t put a name to his face. His stupid, gross, fucking face. You wished you were taller and a guy and didn’t have to go to jail after you _killed him_.

If only.

You were pulled from your murderous thoughts when one of the girls approached you.

“Excuse me?” She asked, gripping her autograph book against her chest. “Are you a superhero too?”

You opened your mouth, unsure of what you were going to say when Loki stepped over and put his arm around you.

“She's _my_ hero. Today she quit her shitty job and told off a guy who assaulted her,” he beamed.

He was so nice to make your ‘accomplishments’ seem bigger than they were.

“Really?” the girl asked, a glimmer of interest in her eyes.

“Yeah. I yelled that I quit in a room full of people and everything and then…” you shouldn't mention H.R. that would sound so stupid, “told them I would be back for my revenge.”

The girls gasped.

“Are you going to kill them?” another of the girls asked.

“No. Just make them hurt.” You smiled meanly.

The girls all thrusted their autograph books at you and talked over each other about how they wanted your autograph first if you were going to become a hero.

You spied Loki out of the corner of your eye, still holding your shoes and looking at you proudly.

Or perhaps, mischievously.

_That bastard_. You smiled back.

After the girls all had their books signed, they wanted selfies and you decided to pull your own phone out and snap one of all of you, including Loki. The girls waved goodbye and ran off down the street happily discussing their autographs and hoping you would be famous too one day.

You sighed. “I wish that was the weirdest thing that's happened to me all day.”

Loki smiled and a green-gold light shimmered over him.

“Was that your magic? Because, uh, you look the same.”

He held out his arm and you took it.

“I'm allowing you to see me as I really am, but unlike my brother I prefer not to interact with fans.”

“I'm surprised you even have fans considering you were ‘the bad guy.’”

He laughed softly. “I'm told that once some close ups of me got around, several fan sites cropped up. There's hundreds of tumblrs dedicated to me, apparently. And at least one specifically to my hands.”

“How _does_ he stay so modest?”

He laughed. “I don't say it with pleasure. I find it somewhat strange when people dedicate so much of their time to someone they've never met. But… it isn't wholly unappreciated.”

You raised a single brow at him.

“Does something for one’s self esteem.”

You scoffed. “If only we _all_ had multiple blogs dedicated to our good looks.”

He looked at you wryly. “Perused them, have you?”

“I might have looked at one or two during the week.”

“Missed me that much?”

“You wish. I was… trying to figure you out.”

“Oh? Whatever for?”

“You went from texting me right after our dates to not messaging me all week. I was trying to figure out if maybe… I was just a fling. I don’t know.”

He was quiet as you hemmed and hawed over your answer.

“I thought maybe you were trying to make me your side piece and was looking for pictures of you with someone else - holding hands, canoodling, whatever - some kind of proof that explained why you hadn’t texted.”

“And what did you find?”

“Nothing. Every picture of you without the team, you're alone.”

He nodded slowly.

“Unless… you use your illusion magic to disguise who you’re with.”

He smiled. “Fishing for the answer, are you?”

“Wondering when you're going to tell me why you didn't text me all week.”

He sighed. “I am alone in those pictures because… I am alone. I have no desire for the groupies that might throw themselves at my feet, and no urge to date the starlets who keep telling their publicists to call me and set up a date.”

You watched him answer your question, hoping you could discern if he was being truthful.

“I have never been in love--”

“Liar.”

“I tell the truth. I have never been in love in my life. I think I was so fixated on my daddy problems for so long that it left little room for anything else.”

“Really?’

“I spent a thousand years trying to win favor from my father that he constantly heaped on my brother, only to be lied to by him at almost every turn… I could have just given up centuries ago and decided to enjoy my life.”

You were quiet

“But no, I was always seeking something I could never have.”

You held his arm tighter and he turned to look at you. You smiled gently. He stopped.

“When I saw you… I thought ‘This is a woman who is on my level when it comes to fashion. This is a woman who knows who she is and what she wants from life.’”

You laughed quietly. “I can't imagine why you'd think that. I don't know myself and I don't know what I want.”

“Tonight you knew that you weren't going to take your manager's shit anymore, you knew you weren’t going to take that guy's shit at all, and you knew you didn't want that job anymore. That has to count for something.”

“Maybe a little. A _very_ little.”

He smiled. “I think you _do_ know what you want, you just don't know how to get it.”

You shook your head. “I knew what I wanted but when I tried to get it, I got fucked by the world.” You tried to tug him forward but he didn't move. You unhooked your arm from his and walked on your own.

He walked up next to you. “Your degree?”

You nodded.

“Well, you can apply for a new job. One that has to do with your schooling. I'd love to see you happy and doing what you want to.”

You stopped again and looked at him, grimly serious. “Why?”

“Why?”

“Why do you want to see me happy? And why didn’t you text me?”

“I… I want to see you happy because I… like you. I'm quite fond of you, I mean to say.”

Your brow knit in confusion.

“I believe I have feelings for you.”

Your eyes widened with the revelation. “Oh.”

“And I was going to text you, but when the idea came upon me to surprise you at the gala, I thought I might build up a little suspense. A little delayed gratification, if you will.”

“I wish you hadn't. If we went together… I couldn’t have talked to you for most of the night, but at least maybe that guy wouldn't have approached me.”

“Again, I am _so_ sorry.”

You shook your head. “Don't be. Let's not be sad over missed opportunities, let's be happy you showed up when you did.’

He moved closer and rested a hand on your cheek. “If there wasn't a ballroom full of people present, I would have flayed him alive.”

This shocked you for a moment, your mouth hung opened while you recovered. You hazarded as smile. “You know just what to say to a girl.”  You took a few steps forward and turned back towards him, “Walk me home?”

“Of course. Aren't we rather far from your apartment?”

You nodded. “And it's almost two in the morning.”

He smiled. “Mind if I use a little magic?”

You looked at him curiously. “I guess not.”

He put one hand around your waist and pulled you in close. He held up his other hand in the way one does when getting ready to dance, and you placed you free hand in his.

He smiled. “Do you waltz?”

You laughed. “Never have.”

“Just follow my feet.”

And with that you were swept up by his hold on you, and when the time came for his big step forward and your big back step, he seemed to pull you right into the wall of the nearest building, and suddenly you were in your apartment.

You looked around. “Holy shit. How did you do that?”

He grinned. “Magic.”

You looked at him tersely. “Yeah, but how did you know it led to my apartment? Or have you done that before?”

“This is my first time here,” he searched for the light and turned it on. “There are… pathways – back doors if you will – that connect different areas of a planet to itself, and sometimes one planet to another. You just have to know where to look.”

“So, there's a spot midtown that leads right to my apartment?”

He shook his head and placed your shoes next to the door. “More like, there's a lot of cross over. I've often used that door to get back to Stark Tower.”

“That's so weird.”

He nodded. “If you’re not used to it, it can be.”

“Well I'm not used to it, so it's weird.”

He laughed softly.

“How'd you know which door led to my apartment?”

“Simple. I knew where I had walked you to last time, and this was the only door in the vicinity.”

“Oh… can I lock it? Like, to go with the door analogy, can it be closed off from others?”

“I can cloak it so only you or I could see it.”

You laughed. “I didn't see anything so I'm going to guess that I won't be using it any time soon.”

“Well,” he closed the distance between you and pushed a stray hair behind your ear. “What if I taught you how to use them?”

“You could do that?”

“Why not? When we Asgardians came to earth more often, we taught many of your people our magic.”

“Seiðr?”

“How did you know that?”

You shrugged. “Lucky guess.”

His smile betrayed that he didn't believe you. “Well, not all humans were able to pick it up, but you might be able to. Women seemed to have a greater aptitude for it than men, I’m not sure why.”

“I suppose I could try. It's not like I have anything else going on--” your sentence was cut off by an intense yawn that you shook off. “Sorry.”

“No, I should go. It's late and I'm sure you want to get to bed.”

He raised your hand to his lips and kissed it, and you weren't sure if it was the night you had or the sleepiness starting to cloud your mind, but you found yourself wishing he would do more than that. For a moment you thought he might have read your mind when he paused, looking at you intently. You desperately wished he would press his lips against yours and pull you in, his hands pressing you into him.

You heard him inhale quickly as if he might say or do something and was readying himself. He kissed you on the forehead instead.

“Goodnight.” He said, and turned to the door, vanishing when you blinked.

How the hell were you supposed to sleep now?

 

* * *

 

You sat in the waiting area of the HR department.

Sunday was a near-panic-induced blur. Panic because you were freaking out about how this meeting was going to go. The fact that you couldn’t actually call and _arrange_ a meeting because HR wasn’t open on the weekends meant that you would have to sit in the office on Monday until someone could help you.

And sat you did. You were wearing your most professional outfit: black slacks and a white blouse with a black blazer. Plain and no-nonsense. You hoped that it showed that you were the party who was in the right, after all /you were/ but now you needed the company to believe it, you were at a disadvantage because you had no proof of the interaction. You sat bolt upright in the chair with your bag in your lap, and your hands firmly on your bag as you waited for the assistant to come back with news that someone could see you now.

You felt your phone buzz in your bag.

All at once you hoped that it was and also was _not_ the man who stopped your assailant on Saturday. Of _course_ you wanted to talk to him, you always wanted to talk to him, but you didn’t know if you could right now. If you started to talk to someone about how you were feeling you might end up crying and you didn’t want to cry.

If you started crying you wouldn’t be able to stop crying and you didn’t want to become a complete mess during the meeting.

You dug your phone out of the bag.

Loki: Are you at HR now?

You: Yes, why?

Loki: Do you want me there for support? I can be there in five minutes.

You sighed.

You: I’m not sure.

Loki: Why?

You: I feel like if you’re here I might end up crying and I don’t want to cry.

Loki: Why not? That man put his hand on your neck, I don’t think they’ll think you’re wrong for crying.

You: Maybe.

You: What if they don’t take me seriously if I cry?

Loki: Would it make them doubt you?

You: I don’t know.

You sighed again and felt the sting of tears begin around the outskirts of your eyes. You inhaled deeply and looked upward for a moment, trying to make them stop.

You: I’m scared.

You: Having that guy’s hand on me like that was terrifying.

You: I just wished it never happened.

Loki: Do you want me to be there with you?

You: Yes.

He didn’t answer. You figured he was on his way and pushed your phone into your bag and waited, trying to stave off the tears that you knew were inevitable.

“Miss Y/L/N, Mrs. Pareja can see you now.”

You stood almost robotically, and quickly as if you had no control over yourself. The opening of the waiting room door made you turn and there was Loki. Dressed is one of his less ostentatious suits, he too affected the look of a very professional person as you were trying to do.

“I got here as fast as I could,” He said apologetically and kissed you on the forehead.

You were stunned. Should he have done that? He did it so easily as if you two had known each other forever and it was a common action. You looked at the assistant who seemed bewildered as well.

“Aren’t… aren’t you?”

“Loki of Asgard,” he held out his hand and shook hers. “Here for emotional support, and I was at the event in question.”

“Oh…” she trailed off as she stared at him, mouth agape.

“Might we go in now?” He asked as he gestured to the door that obviously led to the offices.

“Oh, yes. Sorry. Follow me.”

The two of you followed her down the hall and you felt him grip your hand and squeeze it slightly. The assistant opened the door to Mrs. Pareja’s office.

“Here they are, Mrs. Pareja.”

“They?” The older woman asked as she looked up. She wore reading glasses that she pulled off as she looked up at you. She was older, salt and pepper hair, but she had striking brown eyes and stern eyebrows. That sternness was softened by her round face and plump cheeks. She took one look at Loki and started. “Oh, what are you doing here?”

Loki chuckled. “Emotional support. I was also there Saturday during the incident.”

“Incident, you say?” She eyed him carefully before sitting down again and gestured to the two seats across from her. “Please, sit. Madison, hold my calls, will you?”

The assistant nodded and closed the door as she left.

“So, what is it that happened?”

 

* * *

 

You told your story, sparing no detail when it came to the encounter with your unnamed assailant. The terror you felt, being absolutely sure that he was going to pull you into some quiet area so he could force himself on you. And then how grateful you were when Loki showed up. You left out the part where Loki followed the guy around all night, as it didn’t seem important, but you told her about how Mr. Housemann demanded that you convince a friend of yours to become a client of the company and offered you a promotion for doing so.

“Hmm,” Mrs. Pareja mused as she removed her glasses. “And you don’t know the name of the man who put his hands on you?”

“I didn’t think to ask.” You suddenly felt as if you had fucked up.

“That does make it more difficult, although I’m sure you could be forgiven for that since you were in a room of people unknown to you.”

You nodded.

Loki put his hand on yours.

“Did Mr. Housemann often offer overtime in exchange for this ‘work’ at galas?”

“To my knowledge, he did every time there was one.”

She hummed to herself for a moment before she put her glasses back on. She turned to her computer, typed something quick, and then scrolled around in what you presumed was a document she had opened.

Loki looked at you, his face the picture of kindness and compassion for your situation.

You couldn’t even begin to hide the fact that you were worried and still scared. Your emotions were written all over your face.

Mrs. Pareja perused the document for a few more moments while the two of you sat in silence. Finally, she turned and took her glasses off.

“I don’t like that Mr. Housemann was signing off on overtime in exchange for what seems more like a favor. We prefer happy clients, but I would like to have them happy without coaxing our employees into fraternizing with them.”

“He wasn’t supposed to be doing that?”

She frowned. “He shouldn’t have been.”

At least that was something.

“It’s too bad you don’t know the name of the man who assaulted you--”

The door opened. The assistant held her phone in her hand. ”Um…”

“Madison, you’d better have a good reason for interrupting this meeting.”

“I… I think I do.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Leave a comment and let me know if you like it! :)


	9. Chapter 9

“Out with it, Madison.” Mrs. Pareja said sternly.

“I'm sorry, but there was nothing to do so I was looking through Instagram--”

“Should you be looking through your phone at work?”

“No, ma'am. But it was a good thing I did because I found this.” she rushed to the desk and scrolled, letting a video play.

You froze.

You heard your own voice, your declaration of quitting, and the _thunk_ of Loki’s fork as it hit the table in front of your assailant’s balls.

Mrs. Pareja held her glasses up to her face as she watched the video play through a few times, and then eyeballed the two of you.

“Did you mean to miss?” She asked as she pulled her glasses away.

“Of course,” Loki smiled affably. “It was meant merely as a threatening gesture to scare him off.”

She looked back at the video. “Is there a way we can figure out who that is?”

Madison turned the video’s sound off and opened the thread, scrolling down. “I may already have that information. Several people here seem to have identified him as ‘Arthur Saint-Clair.’ I can call the Events Department and see if he was sent a ticket to the gala and attended.”

You turned to Loki. He squeezed your hand with his own and smiled encouragingly.

Mrs. Pareja smiled. “Good job, Madison, and please do.”

Madison smiled and walked towards the door.

“And Madison?”

She turned back.

“Please don't look at your phone anymore during work hours, I doubt your internet sleuthing will be as helpful in the future.”

“Sorry, ma’am.” She left the room and closed the door.

“Well, Mr… do you have a last name?” Mrs. Pareja asked Loki.

“Laufeysson.”

She nodded. “Thanks to your fame, Mr. Laufeysson, we now have the name of the culprit.” She turned to you. “Would you like to press charges?”

You hadn't given it any thought. One, because you had no idea of his name the entire weekend – _Arthur Saint-Clair_ even his name went with his overall theme of being slimy and spoiled – and two, because your idea of what you would do to him as payback involved less of you having to sit through court proceedings and more of you tearing him limb from limb with your bare hands just for the offense of touching you.

Loki squeezed your hand, bringing you back to reality.

“I don't think I could afford a lawyer…”

“I'll pay for it.” He smiled. “Money is no object.

 

* * *

 

The resulting legal action was much quicker than you ever would have expected. Once Pepper told Tony what happened, he recommended his best lawyers and Loki paid every cent of their legal fees. Within weeks, Arthur Saint-Clair was so buried in legal problems that he had to sell off part of his company (weapons manufacturing, you thought) and decided to settle out of court.

Due in no small part to Loki’s insistence that Arthur be as embarrassed as you were terrified of him that Saturday night, part of his settlement involved making a _very_ public apology to you, and then doing a ‘walk of shame’ down the length of Broadway, from Central Park to Battery Park. Tony, ever the one who enjoyed stirring the pot, decided to advertise for the event and invited people to bring their old fruit with them.

The day of the walk was almost like a festival, a parade with only one man. Locals and tourists had gathered on the sidewalk to watch Arthur Saint-Clair, ‘assaulter of innocents’ as he had become known, make his multiple-hour trek from Midtown to Lower Manhattan. Yes, he was surrounded by bodyguards but part of the deal – as stipulated by Tony and Loki – was that the watchers were allowed to throw any food they wanted at him.

Had it gotten out of hand? Maybe.

Were you mad? No. You watched the feed of one of the many drones Tony had surveying the walk, cozied up in Stark Tower with Loki, as Tony and Pepper had been gracious enough to let you stay there for the time being during the settlement.

There was no shortage of protestors at the walk, no shortage of #METOO signs, and no shortage of ‘pussy hats’ dotting the heads of the people on the sidewalks. You were quite proud of everyone who protested and hoped that maybe other women and men could find justice as well.

Though you guessed their’s might not be so public.

The settlement didn’t just involve public humiliation – of which Saint-Clair richly deserved – it also involved monetary compensation.

But before that, the subject of Mr. Housemann.

Mr. Housemann, who was _not_ supposed to be talking lower-level employees into serving as real-life sock accounts for the company during its charity galas and who _had_ been doing so for most of his time as an upper-level manager, suddenly found himself fired under an HR directive.

Especially when it was found out that some of those employees were propositioned by clients, and took money in exchange for sex. Not his original plan, he said, but nonetheless it happened.

You felt a little bad, but maybe he should have read the HR handbook better and shouldn’t have been doing the wrong thing this entire time.

But then you thought about it again and you didn’t.

Back to the money.

You had wanted to ask for a modest amount, just enough to tide you over until you could find a new job, but Tony and Pepper argued that could be a while considering your newfound fame. People were always iffy on hiring people whose reputation preceded them.

They suggested 4.5 million dollars.

And, because Tony’s lawyers were the best, you got it; of course your first thought turned to paying off your student debt.

And you did.

You also realized that, if you budgeted your money well and didn’t impulse spend much of it, you could make it last for a while and wouldn’t have to get a new job for a few years.

On top of the settlement with Saint-Clair, Mrs. Pareja had informed you that you were owed compensation from the company, thanks to her early directives it had a strong response when it came to sexual harassment and physical assault, and you were due to receive five year’s pay. It was a much smaller number than the settlement, but you were grateful for it nonetheless.

 

* * *

 

Once everything was over and done with – weeks later – the fervor over Saint-Clair’s shame walk and the revelation that he had done what he had done prompted other women, and a few men, to come forward. It would seem that Mr. Saint-Clair had been busy all those years in at the galas and in backrooms of his own business. When it came to light that many of his victims had been like yourself – workers who had no power to fight back against him – you got together with Pepper and organized a donation for the law services for the victims, even donating a million of your own winnings from your settlement. Tony promised to match whatever other donations were given from smaller donors, and the many victims – twenty-five from the last number you saw – were more than grateful for the help.

Saint-Clair was going to get _buried_.

But all that was over. And this wasn’t how you expected your life to go.

You found yourself laying on your couch, in the dark, completely covered in a blanket. Your life had been such a whirlwind since your meeting with Mrs. Pareja weeks ago, that you felt like you hadn’t actually been comprehending what day it was. You knew the date but it felt abstract to you, as if it had no meaning.

That was, until this morning.

You did your normal thing, woke up, rolled over, looked at your phone. When it hit you, you couldn't help but stare at the screen on your phone. _The date was right there, why didn't you realize earlier?_ When the backlight went off, you turned it back on. _How the hell could you not know what day it was?_

Every day for the past five years you took special care to make sure you were alone on this day. It was a lesson you learned the first time, when you were so busy you realized the date at work and had to hide in the bathroom on a different floor to cry. Ever since then you always made sure to know ahead of time in case it happened again. Sometimes it did, sometimes it didn't.

But you knew you had to get away from others just in case. They wouldn't understand.

They would do the _normal_ thing. Tell you to be ‘rational.’ Tell you you were thinking ‘too much.’ Jokes on them, because that wasn't how it worked, you didn't even have to be thinking about it to suddenly be crying over it.

The backlight went dark and you turned it back on.

Five years. Five _fucking_ years.

Five years since the only man you had ever truly loved broke up with you. Five years since you had your heart ripped out and shit on. Five years since you felt the distinct feeling of being cut out of someone's life, only to have him start dating a new girl almost immediately, and at the same time, tell you he wanted to keep being best friends like you were before you dated.

For ten years.

_You dated for ten. Fucking. Years._

_What the fuck?_

'What the fuck?' you asked yourself as you lay in your bed of pain. Sofa of pain, at least.

You couldn't figure out if you had low standards because you started dating in high school and were an idiot because of your youth. Just a young, green little girl who didn't know any better. Or maybe he was just /really/ good at hiding the fact of how completely _garbage_ / he was at being a human being.

Maybe it was a case of 'the heart wants what it wants.' Well, the heart is a fucking _jackass_.

But seriously, who the fuck breaks up with someone and then tells them they still want to be best friends? Did he think he was helping? Was he really that selfish?

And that was _after_ he asked why you weren't over the breakup after _two months._

You know, because people just generally get over ‘the love of their life’ after two months. Sure.

The backlight went off again. You turned it back on.

Never mind that he had the audacity to talk about it to people as if it was a mutual breaking up.

It wasn't.

And the worst thing was that one point still stuck out in your mind after all those years with razor-sharp clarity.

When you were dating, you would periodically ask him if he liked how your relationship was going and if he liked where it was headed. He would always say everything was fine. Sometimes, _you_ didn't think it was fine, that’s why you asked...

_If he thought something was wrong, he could have said something sooner._

You had outright asked him, why couldn’t he have said something?

What a coward.

What was the point of giving so much love to someone, only to have them betray you like that?

This was why you always ended up crying on this day, and why you were currently laying on the couch with a blanket covering you from your head to your toes, wishing you didn’t exist.

Five years and something about it still hurt.

You wondered if this was what it was like to be divorced when it seemed like there was nothing wrong with the marriage.

You heard your phone rattle against the table. You figured you knew who it was but weren’t keen on talking to anyone right at the moment.

You heard the gentle woosh of matter filling a vacuum, a noise you were now familiar with.

“Why is the light off?” Loki asked, you could hear him kick something – a box maybe – as he tried to make his way through the darkened mess that was your apartment. “And where are you?”

“In the living room,” you didn’t yell it, and you didn’t shout it, it was more of a loud croak as you hadn’t spoken to anyone in days and the disuse had congealed to your vocal cords.

You could hear him shuffle around as he made his way through the kitchen to where you were, and you could see the light come on through the weave of the blanket that covered your head.

You groaned.

He shut it back off. “What are you doing lying in the dark with a blanket over your head?” He asked with a laugh.

“I’m having depression.”

“What? Suddenly?”

“No, I _always_ have depression, but right now it’s just… doing its thing.” You answered, trying not to sound mean but not doing a very good job.

You heard his footsteps as he got closer to you. “Can I ask what caused it to ‘do its thing?’

You sighed deeply.

He crouched down next to where he figured your head might be but said nothing.

Confused by the silence, you peeked out from the blanket to see a pair of concerned blue eyes looking back at you.

“Hey.”

“Hey.”

“Are you okay?”

“Did you text me?”

“Yes.”

“Just because I don’t answer doesn’t mean you  need to show up.”

“I’m sorry,” he lifted a paper bag, “I brought sandwiches from that shop you like. I thought you might like some lunch.”

“Oh…”

“Is there room under there for one more?”

You nodded.

He stood and brought the bag to the kitchen and put the sandwiches in the fridge. He returned to the room and surveyed what you were wearing until the blanket as you held it open for him to climb under.

“Sweatpants sort of day, is it?” He waved his hand over himself, his clean-cut suit morphing into a relaxed pair of sweatpants and a zipped up hoodie.

“This is the most naked I've seen you so far,” you quipped. The ridiculous part of your brain that always knew when a joke or an amusing observation could be said and compulsively had to say it never took a day off.

He smiled wryly but said nothing as he toed his shoes off.

You were thankful you had bought an extra wide couch for falling asleep on while watching Netflix and scooched over so he could join you.

He pulled the blanket over both your heads. “Hm, cozy. So what's under here that's so great?”

You shrugged. Or at least, you tried.

“Or is it, what's _not_ under here?”

“The rest of the world isn't under here which is pretty fucking great.”

“Do you want me to leave?”

“No. You're allowed.”

He smiled and touched his forehead to yours. “So what are you doing under here?”

“Years of therapy have been trying to figure that out.” you sighed and rolled onto your back.

“No such luck?”

“No such luck.”

He put his arm around your waist and pulled himself closer to you. He rested his head on your shoulder.

You leaned your cheek against his head.

“I wish there was something I could do to help you.”

“Being here is nice.”

“I mean… I wish there was something I could do so you didn't feel this way anymore.”

“Hey, if you figure it out you could upend the pharmaceutical industry.”

He looked at you. “You're on medication?”

“I mean in general.”

“Oh. Is there something I can do besides being here?”

“I don't know. But laying here with you is nice.”

He laid his head back down.

 

* * *

 

An hour or so later, you woke with a start and an obvious pain in your neck. You suddenly remembered why you had stopped falling asleep on the couch.

As you went to get up, you pushed a large lump off of you to the floor.

“Ow…” Loki groaned as he rubbed his side.

“Sorry. Post-nap brain forgot you were there. My neck is _killing me_.”

“From how you were sleeping?”

“Yeah.”

He sat next to you on the couch. “Well, don't turn it too quickly, you might injure yourself.”

“I think I'm already injured, bud.”

He looked at you with a gentle sternness. “Let me see.”

He touched your neck gently, turning it to the left and then to the right. He put his fingers under your jaw and tilted your head around slowly.

“Are you also the god of chiropracty?”

He smiled. “I may not be a god of the battlefield as my brother is, but I have had the odd battlefield injury. And I have seen my share of injured einherjer.”

You weren't exactly sure that qualified him as an expert in neck pain, but you quietly let him examine you.

After a few more minutes you had to ask. “So… are you actually diagnosing me, or is this just an excuse to touch me?”

He smiled. “Can't it be both?”

You felt the familiar rush of heat begin to wash over your cheeks. _Crap_ , and also, _how dare he?_

You know he noticed this because he smiled. You looked away, determined not to let on how you felt.

“You appear flushed. I fear you might have a fever.”

You narrowed your eyes at him and raised a brow. “Oh yeah?”

He pulled his hands away. “In my expert opinion, yes.”

“Don't you want to check my temperature?”

“How would I do that?”

“Like a mom: you put your hand or your cheek on someone's forehead. How do you do it in Asgard?”

“We put someone in the Soul Forge.”

You blinked. “Well, I am just fresh out of those. If I had known I was going to be struck with sudden illness, I would have stocked up.”

“You don't even know what a Soul Forge is.”

“I do not know what that is.”

He laughed. “Do I use the palm of my hand?”

You shook your head and put the back of your hand on his forehead. “Like that. If their forehead is warm they probably have a fever “

He did the same to you. “Hmm. You don't seem warm. What did you say the other way was? You put your cheek--?”

“Yeah.”

He moved closer and gently pressed his cheek to your forehead. He pulled away, “Do lips work just as well?”

You nodded, very aware you were reddening.

“Then I suppose I should check again, you appear to have gotten worse.” He pressed his lips to your forehead as you closed your eyes.

The night he took you home from the gala he had done the same, and it made you realize how touch-starved you had been lately. If you concentrated hard enough on work and watching tv shows and movies, yuo could normally ignore it, but when his lips touched your skin the first time you were suddenly intensely aware that it felt like /forever/ since the last time you held someone's hand or felt their lips against yours. Now that his lips were touching your skin again, you felt like your heart might burst.

He pulled away and looked at you.

You opened your eyes, half expecting it to be a dream you might wake up from.

“My, my, you seem to have gotten worse.”

You forced a quiet laugh, hoping maybe you could play it off.

He looked into your eyes for a moment before asking, “Would I be able to tell if I pressed my lips to yours?”

Your heart stopped. “I suppose you might.”

He took your face in his hands again and drew you in, gently pressing his lips to yours in a kiss. It was gentle at first, as if he were afraid you might suddenly pull away, but his lips were soft and warm and you had no desire other than to continue kissing him. When your eyes fluttered closed and you kissed him back he knew that you had been wanting it as much as he did and parted your lips, deepening the kiss.

Kissing him was almost strange. His lips were thin, yes, but what he lacked in lip he more than made up in tongue. It surprised you at first, and you felt like he might wrap his around yours and steal it. Was Invasion of the Tongue Snatchers a thing, or did you just make that up in your delirium? Was it because he was so good at kissing or was it because he was a god that you suddenly felt so lightheaded?

And /wow/ were you lightheaded. Some primitive part of your brain worried that you might just lift off and float away into the clouds. Of course, you would only get stuck on the ceiling and then have to explain why it was that you had suddenly gone vertical, but he was an alien so he's probably seen weirder things.

You wished your brain would shut up so you could enjoy the kiss.

Somewhere in your kiss-induced stupor, your body had enough sense to react in a way that showed you were enjoying it, and your hands had made their way to the undersides of his arms where you held on to him, hands balled up in the fabric there as if your life depended on it. And maybe it had, the way your head swam and your breathing shallowed. You wondered if you were going to pass out.

But wonderful moments such as this have a way of being brought screeching back to reality with some unrelenting banality of life.

And this time, it was your stomach.

It growled, _loudly_.

Loki chuckled and pulled away. “That was quite intense. Did you have breakfast?”

“Uh, no.”

He smiled and kissed your lips one more time before standing. He held out his hand to you. “Let’s eat.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you like it leave a comment! :)


	10. Chapter 10

There was an odd little sandwich shop close to your apartment, Grain & Garden. Their branding and logo design made them look like they must be a chain, but no, it was run by a husband and husband team (plus a few employees) and was the only one of its kind. You had always figured they must be foodies, as they had – sometimes strange – but always great sandwich combinations.

Your favorite was beet slices with goat cheese and arugula on sourdough bread.

Of course, you had to drag Loki there. In the middle of the Saint-Clair legal proceedings, you had gotten homesick and yearned for the quiet of your apartment and the sandwich stylings of Grain & Garden, and Loki agreed to go if he were allowed to disguise the both of you. You agreed.

The classic bell jingle pealed out as you pushed open the door of the shop, trying to contain your excitement. You beelined over to the prepared sandwiches and picked up your favorite, and chatted with Loki for a few moments before he settled on one; a falafel and hummus number in a wrap.

As you made your way over to the counter to pay, the TV news reporter elucidated on the day’s news.

“—It is now the second week of the downfall of Arthur Saint-Clair, the business magnate who was found harassing the worker of the bank who controlled his finances—”

“Poor woman,” one of the owners, Mark, said as he faced away from the register, chopping vegetables.

The image of the news reporter cut to footage of you being shuffled away from the courthouse by Loki and Tony’s security.

“I can’t imagine having to go through what she’s going through,” Kevin, his husband said as he turned towards the register to ring you up. “Hi there.”

“Terrible thing that’s happening to that woman,” Loki said and gestured to the TV.

“Oh, yes. She used to be a regular.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, we think she lives right around the corner. We haven’t seen her this whole time, though. She must be staying with family.”

“Maybe she’s staying with Loki,” Mark said and chuckled.

Kevin pushed his shoulder.

“Com’on, you all have to admit you thought the same when you saw them leaving the courthouse together.”

“Wasn’t he there when she was harassed?” Loki helped.

Or really, he _didn’t_ help. You shot him a look.

“Yeah!” Mark turned, “They /have/ to know each other, then. Maybe they’re dating.”

“I wonder why she didn’t tell us.”

“Mark,” Kevin said sternly, “It’s not like we’re friends with her.”

“Still, _I_ wouldn’t be able to keep that secret from anyone.”

“Maybe they were trying to keep it quiet. You know, he’s kind of super famous and she’s just ‘some girl.’” You said.

“Yeah, see?” Kevin pushed Mark again.

“You’re going to make my cut myself.”

“Our customers talk sense, you talk nonsense.” He took each of your sandwiches so he could read the price, and rung them up.

“She’s so lucky though. It must have been happenstance, what are the odds of meeting him?”

“I have no idea, Mark.” Kevin turned to you, “Do you want a bag?”

“No, we’re going to eat them soon,” you smiled.

“I wish I had met him first,” Mark said wistfully.

Kevin looked at you with an expression that read ‘my-husband-just-might-get-these-hands’ and turned to Mark. “Were we getting a divorce I was unaware of?”

“No. We’d still be married, he’d just be my intergalactic side piece.”

“ _Uh huh_ ,” Kevin said as you smiled and Loki chuckled. He addressed you, “Just ignore him. Anything else?”

“That’s it.”

Kevin tapped a few buttons and the register responded with beeps. “$9.40”

You pulled a ten-dollar bill out of your bag and handed it to him. He counted out your change and gave it to you. “Have a nice day.”

You dropped the coinage into the tip jar and smiled. “You too.”

 

* * *

 

You guessed that Loki probably hadn’t gone into the shop looking like his normal self when he got you the sandwiches you two were currently eating. Once again, you had a beet and goat cheese sandwich while he had a falafel wrap. There was something about not having eaten breakfast – probably the accidental fasting – that made it taste even better, like you had never had food so good before in your life.

Still, despite your food and your dining companion, you couldn’t help but press the home button on your phone’s screen to make it light up again so you could stare at the day.

Who was it who said that insanity was doing the same thing over and over and expecting different results?

“Are you okay?” Loki asked, “You've been staring at your phone for at least five minutes.”

What a bizarre predicament. The guy you knew since you were a kid in high school – the all-American boy next door, the ultimate in classic ‘good guys’ the one who you were supposed to marry right out of high school and have 2.5 kids and a house with a white picket fence with – was so emotionally stunted that he couldn't talk about his feelings with you. And now you were sitting at the table having lunch with a formerly egomaniacal alien who tried to take over the world once – at least in a post-1960s sci-fi world – a classic villain. And yet _he_ was the guy who was asking you what was wrong. He was the guy who cared about your feelings. He was the one who brought you your favorite food and sat that the table with you as you desperately tried to begin explaining how stupid you were.

You _still_ couldn't understand how you got here.

You put your phone face down on the table. “Nothing. I'm fine.”

His brow creased. He lifted the phone and pressed the home button, the time and date popped up. He put it back the way you had placed it. “You don't look fine.”

“I'm fine.”

“I've seen you when you're fine, and this isn't it. Now what's wrong?”

You were quiet. You didn't know what to say, or how to even start saying it.

“What is it about today that has you so shaken?”

You looked away.

“Perhaps… someone you loved died today?”

_God, if he had it would be so much easier._ At least everyone would have understood how you felt. You shook your head.

He sat quietly, looking at you.

“It's nothing. Something that happened a long time ago.” Your eyes teared up but you looked back at him and unable to force your voice above a whisper, said, “Please promise you won't judge me.”

He moved as if he wanted to reach out for your hand. To hold it and offer you comfort. Your hands were under the table in your lap, so he settled for doing the same. “I promise,” he said gently, “I won't judge you.”

Why, after so many years, so many attempts at dating, one or two guys you were serious about, all the breakups since then, all the therapy, why did it still hurt you to think about it?

He was asking you how you felt, the only thing you ever wanted anyone you dated to do... but why couldn’t you talk about it?

“If you want to talk about it, I can listen.”

You faked a smile. “Maybe another day.”

You couldn't tell if your smile reassured him. For a moment he looked as if he were hurt by your decision to keep your feelings to yourself, but he rallied and smiled a small, sad smile back at you.

What were you doing? Why were you still like this?

Was it time? After ten more years would you finally forget what it was like to date your ex? Would you forget all the times that were actually good and just remember the shitty parts, of which there were so many? Would having enough boyfriends and enough dates in between then and now finally do it?

You didn't want to hazard the thought – you were an adult, adults weren't supposed to think like this – but would you find someone who could fix you? It was starting to seem like that was your only option, because not being over a ten-year relationship after five years seemed like something was very wrong with you.

“So…” Loki said.

Pulled from your thoughts, you looked up at him. You wondered if your silence had grown awkward.

“Remember how, before all the legal stuff happened, I had offered to teach you magic so you could use the doors?”

“Oh yeah,” you put your sandwich down and dusted the crumbs off your hands. “How would I learn to do that?”

Loki stood and nodded his head that you follow him into the entryway, where he stood next to where the ‘door’ was. You joined him. He pushed up his sleeves.

“Alright so… I’m trying to remember how my mom explained it when I was a kid. All of these doors exist already, they’re like hiccups in reality. They’re part of a space around us that we can’t see but… with enough practice—” Loki extended his arm out into where the door was and it disappeared up to his elbow.

“ _Woah_ ,” the word escaped your lips. You had been through the doors before, but you normally didn’t see Loki when he walked out of one. So yeah, this was definitely weird.

“—you can access them.” A woman’s scream echoed through the point where his arm was and, startled, he pulled it back.

You burst into laughter.

Loki smiled and suppressed his own laughter. “You know, that’s not the first time I’ve had that happen.”

You tried not to laugh and nearly choked on your own saliva. “Alright.”

He kept smiling. In the entire time you knew him he always had nothing but warm smiles for you. You didn’t know what you did to deserve it.

“Okay,” he said as your laughter and coughing abated, “it’s like, we’re surrounded by a universe that’s constantly shifting and changing. It seems the same to us but it’s always moving and there are multiple universes that are all sandwiched next to each other that we have access to if we just find those access points.”

“You’re saying that this portal,” you waved your hand where you knew the door was, to no effect, “goes from my apartment, to another universe, to a random street in Manhattan?”

“Roughly, yes. Like a shortcut in the space-time continuum.”

You suppressed the urge to make a ‘roughly’ joke.

“It’s a little more complicated than that, it jumps through four different universes before ending in a random street in Manhattan, but that’s the basic gist of it.”

"So it's like a wormhole?"

"Something like that."

“So you can access the other universes as well?”

“One could but… I’ve never been able to.”

“Why not?”

“Well, my mother didn’t know how, so she couldn’t have taught me. Also, I think the magic that she and I share is very different from the magic used to access that kind of travel. I’m not even sure what that magic is.”

You nodded, dazzled by the complexity of it all.

“Mostly – the magic I use – it’s just a feeling that I’m aware of. I can feel these things that feel like tears in the universe, open wounds, and because I feel where they are I can step through them.”

“Like a disturbance in the Force?”

“The what?”

The irony of an alien never having seen Star Wars. You didn’t even like it – well, you liked it when you were a kid but then you watched Star Trek and all bets were off as to which was your favorite – but you had seen it at least.

“Never mind. I just mean that it’s an innate feeling.”

“Oh, yes.”

“So how did you learn it?”

He considered this for a moment. “I… I can’t exactly remember. I remember my mom telling me that I had to reach out and feel for it. She used to say, ‘imagine you wanted to test the temperature of a bath, and closed your eyes expecting to feel the water.’ I’m not sure if that helps.”

You looked were the ‘door’ was supposed to be. “I’m not sure it does either.”

“Here.” He stood behind you and walked you up to where the ‘door’ was, lifted your hand and said, “It’s right here at your fingertips, you’re touching it but you don’t know it yet. Now that I’ve told you, close your eyes and see if you can touch it.”

You closed your eyes. His hand still held yours up, while the other was on your shoulder.

You stretched your fingers a little, moved them. You imagined it looked the same as a behind the scenes of a Jim Henson movie, the classic clip of the animators testing the animatronics; the joints moving robotically as the empty electric impulses command them to. You wondered at the difference in musculature and robotics before you furrowed your brow and silently yelled at yourself for getting distracted. You knew you should have started meditating, all that learning to focus would probably help you so much right now—

You yelled at yourself again. Were there ‘doors’ all over Manhattan? Downtown? Midtown? Uptown? Uptown Funk started playing in your head.

You sighed deeply and opened your eyes, dropping your hand.

“Are you okay?”

“You know when you try to concentrate and that’s the moment your brain picks to think about everything all at the same time?”

“Mmm, not really?”

You sighed. “I’m trying again.”

You closed your eyes and raised your hand. You felt your wrist pushed up slightly by cool fingertips.

“It’s right there.”

You squeezed your eyes closed and concentrated as hard as you could. You didn’t physically stretch your fingertips this time, but you tried to imagine your hand stretching out into—well, you weren’t sure what it was supposed to look or be like. Anytime Loki had taken you through a door you wondered if you blinked because you were one place and then suddenly somewhere else. You supposed that, to someone who had no idea what they were looking at, that must have been what it looked like.

You opened your eyes and sighed again. “I don’t think I can do it.”

“You’ve only been trying for five minutes. I’m sure with some more trying you’d actually be able to do it.”

You turned around to face him. “I’m not sure. I mean, thank you for being so optimistic, but I really don’t know. I don’t feel like anything is there. It’s like telling an atheist that touching a statue will make them feel the rapture of the god depicted and then they touch it they just feel…” you thought for a moment on the emptiness that your fingertips met as you tried to reach out into the universe, “cold marble.”

Loki nodded.

“It’s still so weird seeing you in sweatpants and a sweatshirt by the way.”

He chuckled. “Too relaxed?”

“Perfect for a day in, little odd though since I’m so used to seeing you in suits.”

“Does it look bad?”

You shook your head no. “I have a feeling you’d look good in anything.”

He nodded, looked away for a moment and then turned back. “Do you want to continue our lesson tomorrow?”

“I suppose so. But I can't guarantee I'll figure it out.”

“Hey,” he stepped towards you and enveloped you in a hug, “You’re an intelligent, capable woman. I have a feeling you could do anything.”

“Maybe.”

He looked at you. You knew it was the look of someone trying to convey that they were right and all you had to do was listen and understand that they were right, but you still didn't feel like you could do it.

You sighed.

“None of that.” Loki said. “Do you want to do something else instead?”

“Hmm…” you thought. “Have you ever watched Steven Universe?”

“What's that?”

You smiled. "Ready your sweatpants, kid, they're about to put on some mileage."

He laughed.

The fool, little did he know you were going to make him watch _all of it_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Leave and comment and let me know if you like it! :)


	11. Chapter 11

People were screaming.

You and Loki were running, and though he was gripping your hand tightly as he led you through the also running other people, you had enough distance from the situation so that you could have a proper existential crisis as you were running.

What the fuck was happening? In the morning you and Loki were having a delightfully lazy ‘still-in-pajamas’ breakfast in Stark Tower that Peter had joined you for as he was getting ready for school, and it was only minimally ruined by Dum-E trying to serve the three of you orange juice that it spilled across the counter. Next thing you knew, bomb sirens that you didn’t even know existed were wailing and Loki was pulling you to the bomb shelter. Or, ‘alien invasion shelter’ as it was built after the first attack on New York City.

As Loki pulled you along and you ran behind him, you heard the distant calls of someone behind you. “Mr. Loki! Mr. Loki!” They yelled as they got closer.

Loki stopped and spun around, his hand still around yours like a vise. “What?”

“Mr. Loki, I’m sorry, but Thor wants your help and couldn’t contact you.”

Loki sighed. “He already broke his phone?”

“He fried it, sir.”

He turned to you, visibly pained before turning back to the young man. “What’s your name?”

You could only guess that he must have been one of Tony’s many lower-level assistants.

“Michael. Michael Henshaw.”

“Michael. I need you to do something extremely important for me.”

Michael nodded.

“I need you to take my girlfriend, this is Y/N, to the bomb shelter. Do you understand?”

Michael nodded again.

A heavy thud resonated from outside and made all of you flinch as the building shook. You wondered if something big hit the building and, more importantly, _what_ it was.

Loki looked around before he turned to face you, grasping both your hands in his. “Listen. I need you to get to the shelter and stay there. You’ll be safe there.”

You nodded. You knew you couldn’t go with him but part of you wished you could.

All of the reoccurring feelings of inadequacy and wishing that you were more on his level – but this time in terms of superpowers and ability instead of money and affluence – bubbled back to the surface as you looked into his eyes. Time seemed to slow and there were so many things you wish you two had said or done that you hadn’t before this point, and now it seemed like there was no time left to do or say any it.

The building shook again as time resumed its natural speed and he looked around as the lights flickered. He pulled your hands up to his lips and kissed them, squeezed you tightly as he kissed you on the forehead, and then placed a very gentle kiss on your lips.

“I have to go. Please be safe.”

You nodded, too stupefied by fear and confusion to even begin to say anything.

Loki turned to the assistant and grasped his shoulders. “Michael, I’m putting her safety in your hands. Make sure nothing happens to her.”

Michael nodded and stammered out, “Y-yes sir!”

Loki cocked his head at the effusion as if he wanted to make a joke or at least point out that he needed no such measure of respect, but because he was needed elsewhere, smiled instead. He looked one last look at you – pain at having to leave you behind? Anguish at not being able to personally protect you maybe? – and then he turned and ran down the hall to find his brother.

You knew you should have, at that moment, turned and kept running in the direction that the two of you had been moving in but you couldn’t help but watch him as he ran down the hallway, his clothes shifting from pajamas to a mostly leather look that you recognized as ‘his last battle outfit before the Asgardians made their way to earth’ because he had shown you it along with his other battle-ready looks. (That first one – before he was thrown off the Bifrost – was a doozy.) You should have turned and run but you couldn’t help but watch as his clothes changed and a horned helmet appeared, and he effortlessly slipped through a ‘door’ and was gone.

The building shook again and the lights flickered off for a second before the red emergency lights came on.

“Ma’am, we have to go.”

Your attention snapped to Michael who was looking at you, worried. “Yeah... Yeah. Where’s the bomb shelter?”

 

* * *

 

Next thing you knew you were running down flights of stairs as more of Tony’s employees also ran. You hoped they all knew where they were going, as they seemed to be going in different directions. Maybe they had designated shelters they were supposed to go to based on importance or role in the company. You wondered if it was Tony who decided such a thing or if it was Pepper since she had been the CEO for a while at this point. Maybe it was some kind of randomly generated thing.

As you ran down the stairs wishing you had done some cardio – _any cardio_ – in your life, you became closer and closer to the ground floor of Stark Tower, until you had finally reached the lobby.

“We just have to go to the entrance for the shelter,” Michael told you as he began to lead you across the huge lobby.

The plans of the building suddenly struck you as very stupid. All this way for a bomb shelter? Wouldn’t it make sense to have them – you didn’t know because you weren’t some kind of safety architect – but wouldn’t it make sense if they were somehow, in any way closer to where people lived in the building? How was anyone supposed to make it all the way down here, with still further to go, before the building fell on them? You felt there were some flaws in the design.

At least one.

As you ran across the lobby, pajama-ed except for the shoes you had thrown on, you heard distant sounds of fighting. Perhaps stupidly, you couldn’t help but investigate the sounds as you ran to the huge glass doors of the lobby entrance.

“Miss—Miss!” Michael yelled as he ran after you.

You leaned against the door, your hands pressed against the cool glass as you gazed through searching for something, anything, that could possibly tell you what was going on.

The air was filled with the sounds of distant screams, fighting, and the buzzing whir of helicopters and the aggressive scream of fighter jets. You saw a few members of the Avengers as they fought hand to hand in the streets with whoever they happened to be fighting. And just who _were_ they fighting? The people – if they could be called that, maybe they were aliens – seemed to have green skin and pointed ears and wore a lot of purple. They seemed to you to be almost as if reptiles had evolved to become humanoids on whatever planet they came from at the same time as mammals evolved to become true humans on Earth.

This was very weird to you, and you wondered if it was only because you weren’t around for the first Invasion of New York.

At the very least, it was weird to you that now there would be a ‘First Invasion of New York’ and a ‘Second Invasion of New York’ in the history books. Life seemed so much simpler when you were a kid, before anyone knew about superheroes and before they had an effect on the people and places around them.

Michael tugged at your arm and pulled you from your reflection. “Miss, we have to get you to the bomb shelter. Mr. Loki will probably hurt me if he finds out I haven’t.”

You looked at him, searching his eyes for who-knows-what. He seemed panicked, but you weren’t sure if it was from the fighting outside or the prospect that Loki might have a bone to pick with him in the near future.

“Fine.” You turned to follow him as he tried to usher you across the lobby. But as you took one last look at the activity outside you thought you saw a familiar teal leather jacket go by, before the wearer was unceremoniously slammed into the floor. As their brass-colored horns went clattering across the pavement, you could see their face.

_Loki_.

You screamed his name. You broke away from Michael’s gentle grip on your arm, surprising him as you bolted back over to the windows. Loki lay on the floor, dazed for a moment as the green-skinned humanoid stood over him. Another walked over and seemed to gesture and speak to the first one. The first one slammed the butt of his… intergalactic space rifle? – your best guess having never left earth and having _no_ experience in alien war technology – into Loki’s temple appearing to knock him out. You watched as they then seemed to call someone and realized as they stood around, that they meant to pick him up.

You had to do something. Yes, you were supposed to already be in the bomb shelter and _yes_ , if you were you wouldn’t be seeing any of this right now, but you had to do something.

You had no powers, and neither of you had told the other you loved them yet but you were thinking it might happen soon and you had vaguely discussed going on vacation and you _still_ hadn’t had sex yet but goddamn it: _he was your boyfriend and you were going to save him._

_You had to save him._

_How the fuck were you going to save him?_

You looked around, vaguely aware that Michael was pulling on your arm and trying to explain to you that you had to get to the shelter. Maybe someone had dropped a weapon you could use or something, and so your eyes searched the ground for anything that could be useful. You were wearing PJs and you were about to run out there like a madwoman and shoot one of those idiots with some kind of hi-tech I-hope-I-don’t-hurt-myself-but-how-do-you-work-this fuckoff sci-fi rifle and you had no other thought in your mind than ‘I have to save him’.

Were you stupid? Maybe. But were you a bad girlfriend? Hell no.

An icon did not back down when her man (or woman, or non-binary loved one) was in trouble, and goddamn it, you weren’t about to start today.

You just needed something to fight with.

For the third time – you think, you couldn’t tell as time seemed to slow as you searched the ground frantically for something, anything you could use to fight – your vision grazed over the blinking turn signal of a car that had been abandoned by someone who you hoped had gotten to safety. Were they turning as they got out? Or did they just hit the signal lever as they – terrified, probably – stumbled out of the door and ran.

Wait, if the light was still blinking, that meant the keys were still in the ignition.

_Yes._

You looked back at Loki and saw that his fingers had started to twitch, and he seemed to be beginning to come to. At that moment, both of the lizard men were looking upwards at whatever small ship – you suspected it was the dinghy to a spaceship’s Man-of-war – lowered slowly. You had to do something now or possibly lose him forever.

You spun around to Michael who was shocked as he held onto your arm, not expecting you to acknowledge his existence so intensely. “Michael, Loki gave you a job, right?”

“I—Yes.”

“Well, I’m giving you a new one and my orders override his.”

“That doesn’t sound right.”

“Doesn’t matter. I need you to get yourself to safety.”

“What about you?”

“I have to go save Loki. Now, go.”

You pushed him in the direction you had been running in earlier and ran a few feet before opening the door nearest to the car and, your body low to the ground, sneakily walked through it. You were fortunate that there was debris you could dart behind as you made your way to the car, a rather large vehicle that you figured was probably the result of the insecurity of a midlife crisis wrapped up in the amount of money made by someone who aspired to climb the ladder of Wall Street banking – a Hummer. How _gauche_. A Hummer in Manhattan? How utterly suburban and droll.

And they got such _terrible_ gas mileage.

You were glad they left the keys behind.

As you – practically engulfed by the size of the vehicle and wondering why anyone felt they needed to own such a thing – looked over to where Loki was, you realized you had a more or less straight shot to where the green spacemen were standing a few feet away from him as they waved their ride down. You put the car in drive and took a deep breath. There were small (and here, small meant parts of buildings and spacecraft that only went up to your knee) debris in your way that you could drive through, but you needed speed to get through them.

You stepped on the brake and the gas at the same time. The rear wheels started to spin against the pavement as you held the brake down, the noise of the rubber not attracting the aliens. As the ship lowered enough for you to hit it, you let go of the brake and held onto the steering wheel as the car jolted forward.

Side note: Due to living in Manhattan, you hadn’t driven a car in a _long time_. Yeah, public transportation wasn’t _the best_ in the United States, but it was still easier than paying for a car you’d never get to drive.

That being said, _holy shit you had to hold onto that wheel_ because you almost fucked up your own plan when the car nearly got away from you. You held on for dear life as you barreled through the debris towards your target, and the green humanoids turned to look at you as you slammed into one, clipped the spaceship, and hit the other. The first one went under the wheels in a creepy-but-also-gross-but-also-satisfying bump under the wheels, while the second one tried to jump out of the way and somehow went up and over the top of the car. The ship, spun wildly for a hot second before it skidded against the pavement and the friction ground it to a stop.

You stopped the car, put it in Park, and jumped out.

“Loki! Loki, please tell me you aren’t dead!”

He groaned and opened his eyes. “I’m not… Wait, why are you here?” He sat upright, not without another groan, and looked around. “What are you doing out here, you’re supposed to be hiding in the shelter until all of this is over!” He was shouting, but you could tell it was out of bewilderment, not anger.

“Michael was taking me to the shelter which, by the way, is _so far_ from where anyone lives. Like, we had to run through the lobby as the last step to get there and that’s when I saw you being attacked by those green dudes. I couldn’t just let you die—”

Loki’s lips were against yours and you couldn’t speak anymore. There was no point trying to fight it.

You would have stayed like that forever were it not for the scuffling noise you heard that caused you to pull away in fright. The lizardman who had gone over the car stood and was readying his weapon.

But Loki was faster, seemingly in one motion, he stood in front of you and waved his hands, opening a vortex to an object that looked to be made of blue glass. He held onto its handles as it blew frigid air that dropped the temperature in the immediate vicinity and froze the alien in his place in ice. As he held onto it, his skin became blue and his eyes red, his skin seemed to be scarified with geometric designs.

Your eyes were wide as you looked at him.

“I forgot I had that.” He commented, more to himself than you as he waved the vortex closed.

“What was that?”

“A gift from my birth father I had the good sense to steal from Asgard before we left and everything was destroyed.”

“And… what was with the blue skin?”

Loki, confused for a moment, touched his own cheek before realizing what happened.

“Family resemblance?” You asked.

He smiled softly. “Yes. In everything but height.”

“You’re just filled with surprises,” you smiled.

You were out in the open on a battlefield and everything you knew about warfare – i.e., shit you had all learned from video games – told you that the two of you needed to get to cover.

“We should probably talk about this at another time… somewhere else. Or you know, help the others.”

He nodded. “Yes, let’s go inside and make out.”

He grabbed your hand and pulled you to towards the building but you pulled him back and nodded your head at the downed ship.

He laughed. “Fine.” And led you into the ship where – after a short scuffle in which Loki brought some daggers to a gunfight and _won_ – you two were in possession of the ship and Loki was quickly trying to figure out how to fly it.

“Do you know who these not so little green men are?”

Loki pressed buttons and read, or maybe _attempted_ to read, the text that came up on some of them. “No idea. I think I saw this language on a few of the ships when I was on Sakaar so hopefully, I can—”

The ship whirred back to life and Loki closed the loading hatch and it lifted off the ground.

He pressed his left ear. “Tony, I have one of their ships.” Tony must have told him ‘good job’ or something because Loki answered, “Don’t thank me, Y/N… what did you do exactly?” He asked you.

You rolled your eyes and had to suppress a laugh, then leaned closer to Loki so Tony could hear you. “I clipped it when I ran two of those green guys over with someone’s car.”

You could hear Tony laugh loudly over the speaker.

“He says he’s going to be by in a bit.”

A few moments later, in which Loki had time to further figure out the controls and show them to you, Tony hovered outside the ship. Loki opened the loading hatch and Tony landed. His helmet opened.

“Now listen,” he said as he popped what looked like an earbud out of his gauntlet, “I don’t like that you’re not in the bomb shelter with all of the rest of the…” he looked from you to Loki and then back to you. “All the people who don’t have powers or gadgets or training. But you seem like you’re determined to help out so,” he handed you the earbud, “put this in your ear and you’ll be able to talk to the rest of us.”

You nodded and immediately crammed it into your left ear.

“Touching it turns on the mic, if you keep talking, it’ll stay on. If you speak loudly enough, it’ll go on anyway. There’s a little bit of AI involved, it tends to be pretty good about getting what you need to the people you want to hear it. We all have them.”

You nodded.

“Okay?”

“Okay.”

“Loki, keep her safe. I’m going to go out and deal with these not so little green men.”

“She already called them that once.”

“Well damn it, now I gotta think of something else.” And with that, he flew off.

The ship was quiet again as you stood, new toy in your ear, wishing you weren’t wearing pajamas. “So, what do we do now?”

“Well, we can fly up and see if we can see any of their ships. They probably won’t take too much notice of us if they think we’re one of them. We can run interference, or be bait.”

“That could work… um.”

“Yeah?”

“How many people do you think go into battle wearing pajamas?”

Loki chuckled. “Probably not many.” He waved a hand over you, your clothes changing from your PJs to a battle outfit that looked very much like his own although the deep teal was replaced by a deep cranberry red, and yours had more armor.

“You look good. Like you're ready to take on anyone.”

“You don't think Wanda’s going to be mad about the color choice?”

“Nah. She doesn't have battle clothes the way the rest of us do. She normally just wears a leather jacket with a dress.”

“It is a look.”

“A ‘look?’”

“I'll explain later.”

“Ah. Well I added so extra armor since you're--”

“A squishy human?”

“I… well yeah.” He shrugged.

“It's like a wizard going into battle except I can't cast spells.”

He looked at you, puzzled.

“I'll explain that later too.”

He nodded. I would really much rather you not be here and be someplace safe, but I think you’re too empathetic to want to hide when you could be helping, and you’re too clever where me forcing you to hide could be seen as a loss.”

“I just hit some guys with a car, man.”

“You read the environment and _without powers_ figured out a solution to stop these guys from taking me to wherever they thought they were going. You may not have super powers but you’re smart.”

“Unless a bunch more middle-aged dudes with inadequacy issues also left their Hummers around, I don’t know what else I can do.”

“Hey you two, make a decision yet? We could use some more people in the battle.”

“Yes, Tony, we’re about to lift off.” Loki paused until the earbud had most likely stopped listening. “Telling you to leave was clearly a dumb idea since you saved my life--”

“I don’t have money and a suit like Tony, or was bitten by a spider like Peter, or am half-god like other Peter,” you paused for a moment because as you wondered how many Peters there were and if you had named them all. “I’m just a regular human.”

Loki looked at the console and used the cameras on the ship to zoom in on a red-cloaked figure flying through the air with the collar popped. “See that guy over there?”

“The dude with the Spawn cape?”

"The what?"

You thought to yourself for a moment. "Nevermind."

Loki shook his head. “That’s Doctor Strange. He’s human.”

“Yeah, but he has magic and a cape. I have neither of those things.”

“You’re clever. You’re always thinking, that’s just as important.”

You were quiet, thinking, 'always thinking.' You had no idea what to say or if you should go or not.

Loki, ever the romantic, took your face in his hands. “I have nearly died so many times trying to save my brother and faked my death more times than was needed. If today is the day I am truly meant to die, I would rather die with you.”

Your eyes teared. You couldn’t help but be moved by his words. But you couldn’t help but laugh. Some part of you felt like you had waited your entire life to find a man who felt as intensely about you as you did about him, and he ends up being an alien who inspired a god.

He kissed you. Of course he kissed you.

“Okay, let’s go.”

You felt new resolve run through your veins like cold steel.

Or maybe it was fear.

Loki deftly worked on the controls and had the ship up in the air within a few moments. As the small ship rose into the air Loki touched his finger to his ear. “Tony, we’re ready. We were thinking of running some interference if you need it.”

“Excellent. Parker just went into the theater district and ran into a bunch of green meanies who are attacking people coming out of the theaters. He could use some help.”

“I’m fine, Mr. Stark—” Peter quipped before being cut off.

“Kid!” Tony yelled. “He just got picked out of the sky.”

“We’re on our way,” Loki responded.

In a moment you were hovering over 42nd street and quickly set to work shooting the other ships out of the sky and trying to avoid hitting earthlings or letting them be hit by falling debris. You mostly held on and tried to comprehend how the ship worked as Loki maneuvered it through the air, confusing the other ships because it looked exactly the same as the others but it was _attacking them._ More than once the other ships tried to communicate with yours, resulting in Loki slamming his hand down on the communicator buttons.

“Did you understand any of that?” You asked as you tried to stop yourself from being thrown around the ship.

“Absolutely no idea,” Loki said and gritted his teeth on a hard turn.

You did the same.

“Next one you hear, Loki,” Tony chimed in, “Let it run for a few minutes. Maybe Friday can get something on it.”

Loki groaned, as every communication seemed to be frantic yelling. “Fine.”

Unfortunately, the next transmission came in seconds later, and the two of you had to listen to angry alien yelling as you zoomed through the air for the next five minutes.

“Alright,” Tony said. “That’s enough.”

“ _Finally_ ,” Loki said crossly, pulled a dagger from the aether and stabbed the console.

“Did you just break the ship?” Tony asked.

“You fly around with some unknown person yelling at you and see how you like it.”

You stifled a laugh.

Loki looked out the corner of his eye at you. “What are you laughing for?”

“It was terrible, but you got _so mad_ about it,” and laughed as you were being thrashed around the cabin.

He smiled wryly. “I’m glad you find that funny.”

“Flying around while someone is yelling at us in another language is pretty funny.”

His smile widened.

“I think I’m going a bit insane from the situation.”

“Things flying around and shooting at you while you’re flying around and shooting at them is a pretty wild experience.”

“Are you like…” you were interrupted by a hard bank to the right, “over it at this point? You have to have done a lot of space battling.”

He shrugged as he steadied himself. “I mean, they can get samey after a while.”

You held on for dear life as he banked the ship whilst evading two ships that crashed into each other.

“Or sometimes it can still be exciting,” he shot you a mischievous grin.

“I feel like you did that on purpose—”

“Can someone tell Loki that we could use his cloaking abilities right now?” Hawkeye asked of the general Avengers populace.

Loki looked at you. “I think I have to get out of the ship to go help him.”

Oh no.

“Hey Starship Troopers,” Tony quipped, “I need the walking redemption arc to help us with some funny nose glasses.”

“I think I have to go.”

_Oh no_.

You were as still as you could possibly be as you looked at him, half terrified. Or maybe all terrified.

“Why don’t you fly the ship around? Tony knows where you are, you can help him.”

“I don’t know if I can really fly it.”

“You’ve been watching me this whole time, don’t think I didn’t notice.”

He was right.

“I think you can do it. Here, take the controls.”

Reluctantly, you did. You shakily flew the ship for a few moments before you heard Hawkeye over the comm again. “A little help here, horn boy.”

Not the best insult. If that was what it was meant to be.

Loki smiled at you. “See? You’ve got this.” He pressed the button to open the hatch. “Close it behind me, okay?”

You nodded.

He leapt out and you pressed the button again.

You tried to lie to yourself. It’s like a video game. Except that the controls were in no way similar, you were really flying through the air, and you mainly played RPGs, not flight simulators.

_It was not like a video game_. But you were not about to admit that.

Did an icon ever admit hard truths?

Maybe.

Most likely.

But you thought that now was not the time, as you were meant to be making something of yourself with the responsibility that had been given to you. Just then, Tony’s voice piped into your earpiece.

“Hey, kid. Would you like some help?”

“Um,” your flying was slightly steadier, but only ever so slightly. “Yes, please.”

“Let’s see if Friday can do anything for you.”

The console flicked off quickly and flicked back on before any loss of engine control was noticeable.

“What did you do?”

“You have a co-pilot now. She’ll help you stabilize and not run into anything. And I can see you better on my console so I can relay your position to the air support.”

“Oh. Were they going to shoot me down?” The thought was nothing short of terrifying.

“No. Well, they hadn’t seen you yet so they weren’t aware you existed as a thing _to_ shoot down.” He whistled long, “Glad we avoided that shitshow, huh?”

“Uh, yeah,” you responded as you fired at another enemy ship. “Super glad.”

“Good. I’m going to guess that you aren’t any sort of flying ace, so I’ll keep an eye on you, don’t worry.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!  
> Leave a comment if you liked it! :)


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is a slight Captain Marvel spoiler in this chapter, so if you haven't seen it yet, maybe read this after you do.

And yet, somehow – as you were hurtling through the air above 42nd street trying to attract other ships of your make but not of your alignment in an effort to either confuse or maim them, hopefully both – you worried.

Tony did keep his word and you saw him occasionally dart through your field of vision as he flew around fighting or taking on more of a support role. You couldn’t help but wonder where Loki was but figured that it was probably not the time to try and contact him. You both had things you were supposed to be doing, and while your part was not big, you were going to do it.

Minutes went by – very long minutes – and you got lost in the commotion as you darted around. You wondered if you were experiencing the same sort of time dilation that occurs when people have an adrenaline rush. Were you having an adrenaline rush? Could someone have an adrenaline rush for… you have to have been flying around for close to an hour at this point. You _did_ feel the sensation of, when you were a child in school, tilting your chair too far back and feeling like you’re going to fall right before you right yourself. That feeling of gravity suddenly taking over in a terrifying and intense way, but right now it was prolonged and relentless and with no sign of an end.

You felt your heart beat wildly in your chest as you struggled to keep up with everything around you – the final irony of being able to fly an alien ship would _definitely_ be crashing into something and killing yourself by accident – and it was then that you realized that the only other time your body had felt that way lately was when you were kissing Loki.

Was your life just _so_ boring up until you met him? The answer came quickly from another part of your brain, _’Yes. Everything was boring and dumb and you wanted to die. Not to kill yourself, but to slowly and quietly decay into the floor and become the nothingness that you normally felt.’_

Wow. Thanks for the honesty, brain. You could always be counted on for the hottest takes and the most stone-cold fucking opinions. Go fuck yourself.

All of this made you wonder again where Loki was. But again, you knew there was no time for flirtatious banter or general check-ins. He was probably extremely busy, maybe disguising himself as one of the green dudes and slipping into their ranks effortlessly and murdering a whole platoon. From what he and the other Avengers you had met told you – in particular, his brother – you thought that sounded like a thing he would do.

And he would be super good at it.

You had to admit to yourself, finally, that maybe you weren’t so bad at—how would you even phrase it?

‘Flying an alien spaceship that you only observed the flying of for a while and somehow not killing yourself yet’?

That seemed pretty accurate.

‘Running interference?’

That probably sounded cooler.

You guessed he was right earlier when he said you would be fine. You were basically fine. At least you were telling yourself you were fine.

Your heart was beating like you had just snorted a mound of cocaine, not that you ever had but you had seen movies where characters did. Your vision was tunneled from concentrating so hard, and your hands were starting to cramp from gripping the controls in a near panic for almost an hour… but you were basically fine.

‘Not fine’ came a few minutes later.

“Is Y/N the only one in the air above 42nd?” Peter asked.

“I think so,” you answered. You hovered in place for a second and turned the ship somewhat slower than you had been moving, trying to see if you had really gotten rid of them all. “Yeah, I think I’m the only one left.”

“Okay,” Tony answered. “Their numbers seem to have dwindled and their invasion warships are pulling out of the atmosphere. Why don’t you meet us back near Stark Tower and we can regroup.”

“Rodger that,” you replied and steered the ship in the direction of the tower.

Before you could leave the area, however, it felt like something broadsided your ship. The comm console that Loki had injured blazed to life in a flurry of sparking circuits and a face appeared on the screen obscuring your view of the world around you. The green, lizard-like man screamed at you in his mother tongue—you guessed he was cursing you for having killed his friends.

Like, if you had to make a guess.

Then something, you figured it was his ship, hit you again. You couldn’t hold back a terrified scream, as much as you tried to.

“What’s wrong?” Tony and Peter asked frantically.

“I’m being attacked! Someone broadsided the right—starboard side of the ship!” The other ship rammed you again as the green face kept yelling. “He’s taken over the comm and is yelling at me!”

“Fly away!” Peter tried to help.

“I’m trying! I think he’s damaged the thrusters.”

Suddenly, you were nearly thrown to the floor as the ship lurched upwards. The green face disappeared and you could see that you were ascending. You pounded at the controls and tried to take command of the ship, no response.

“Guys, he’s pushing the ship up into the air. The controls are gone, I think he might have hacked me-- the controls aren’t-- nothing’s working!”

As you rose into the air you wondered why you hadn’t heard Loki respond yet. Wasn’t he worried? _Where the hell was he?_

“Guys… I think he’s going to let me fall.” _To my death_. You couldn’t make yourself say it but you knew that’s what he was going to do. Let you fall, having your last few moments alive blinded by terror before your body was crushed by the impact. “Loki?” You asked, quieter now. “If you can hear me…”

There were so many things you wanted to say that you wished you had. Why did you have to be so emotionally stunted, so emotionally _stupid_ , all the time?

Tears began to blur your vision as you felt the ship under you lean, allowing your ship to slide off of it.

“Loki, I love you.”

And you fell.

You plummeted.

You were practically pressed up against the ceiling at first as the ship dropped from under you, and you knew that once it connected with the ground you were going to be thrown into the floor. All of your being, everything about you just crushed from the momentum of the sudden stop.

You couldn’t bring yourself to scream. You were never the kind of person who screamed on roller coasters maybe then, it was because you knew you were safe. But now, when you were absolutely certain you were going to die, you still couldn’t scream. It would have been pointless.

You silently waited for the end.

The other ship had pushed you far above the skyscrapers, with a clear shot to the street below. You saw the windows of the many floors rush past as you got closer to the ground.

You wondered how much it would hurt, and for how long you would be alive afterward. Would you die instantaneously? Would you take hours to die after being rushed to the hospital with all your bones broken, only to have everyone stand around you sadly as you slipped into a coma? Would Loki hold your hand until you finally breathed your last breath? Would he, as old as he was and with how many hundreds of years he had ahead of him, get over you quickly? Would he be inconsolable? How long would it take? You must feel like a blip on the timeline of his life to him. Would he even be sad?

Would the rest of the Avengers completely forget about you? They barely knew you and they only knew you because of Loki. Were you just a normal human being who was just a blip on their radar of ‘shit that happens’?

Would anyone remember you?

Was it normal to think about who would remember you when you were about to die?

You continued to fall. It felt like forever. It also felt like no time at all.

You wondered again if it would hurt.

Maybe you deserved it. Dating an almost god was definitely shooting higher than your caliber, and hanging out with billionaires and super-powered beings was way out of your league.

You brought this on yourself.

But you pushed that thought from your mind. Yeah, okay, _fine_ , you brought this on yourself in the sense that _knowing them was how you got here_. But it wasn’t punishment. It was just the wrong place at the wrong time. It was just fate.

And now you were falling.

You closed your eyes as you neared the ground.

You were falling.

And suddenly you weren’t.

Your brain took a moment to comprehend the fact that you were _no longer moving_.

You were still.

And you were wrapped in someone’s arms.

“I have you. I have you. I have you.” The owner of those arms repeated like a mantra like you weren’t the only one they were trying to convince of your safety.

You looked up.

It was Loki.

A crunching, twisting, fiery explosion rocketed to the ground when the ship finally made landfall a few hundred feet from the two of you. Still panicked, you almost jumped out of Loki’s arms at the sound, his muscles tensed as he held you tightly. You turned and watched as the wreckage was consumed in fire, the result of the explosion of the ship’s power source. Loki turned too and watched as the flames began to eat at the ship.

“Where were you?” You asked. Thankful, shaken, slightly mad that he hadn’t once answered you.

“Someone punched me in the face and my earbud got knocked out and stepped on. Peter found me and told me what was happening.”

You pressed your head against his chest as he squeezed you tighter.

“I just jumped through so many doors to get to you, you have no idea,” he laughed nervously.

You laughed, just as nervous. You were still shaking from the fear.

The momentary breath of calm seemed to unnerve him for a moment and it bubbled up as for a moment as he shook as well.

You held him tighter, he did the same.

“He told me what you said.”

You looked up at him.

He smiled, as kind and as loving as someone possibly could be after having saved their girlfriend from certain death. “I had wanted to say it first.”

You laughed a singular ‘ha,’ before your nerves took over and you were laughing hysterically. You tried to stand. Gripping his shoulders, your knees buckled as you collapsed to the floor. Loki let you fall and helped you to the floor gently. Of course, your laughter gave way to tears when your adrenaline levels started to drop, and you were finally faced with the gravity of the situation.

Gravity. _Jesus Christ_. No pun intended.

“ _I—almost—died!_ ” You sobbed out.

Loki wrapped his arms around you again as you both sat on the floor.

You felt like a small child being comforted by someone who was much older and wiser than you. Someone who remained calm and in control when flying around a spaceship shooting at things. Someone who had faced death before. Your feeling was completely correct.

“You’re okay. You’re okay.” He rubbed your back as he tried to calm you. “You’re still here. I have you.”

“I don’t—even—remember you—pulling me—through—the—door.” Each word was an effort, a fight against your tears and your hyperventilation.

“Your eyes were closed. I’m so sorry I didn’t get here sooner.”

“I—I—I—”

Loki shushed you quietly. “You’re allowed to cry. Almost dying is really scary.”

“You—almost—died?”

“I did. Many times.”

“Were—ere—you—” you hiccuped and tried to force yourself to breathe so you could get the word out. “Scared?”

He held you quietly as he thought for a moment. “Every single time. But normally my brother was with me. I’m sorry, I should have never left you alone. I shouldn’t have convinced you to fly the ship by yourself.”

“You—you—had to—help.”

“I should have put you somewhere safe.”

“I—I—” you inhaled and tried to quell your tears, “I don’t think—there was any—anywhere safe.”

He nodded as he held you against his cheek. “That’s very true. I should have used a door to bring you somewhere safer.”

The idea hadn’t even occurred to you the entire time. “Oh—shit—” you hiccupped.

Loki laughed quietly at your response, and at the noise.

The stupidity of the sound of a hiccup now, when you were freaking out, coupled with Loki’s quiet laugh made you laugh.

“I’m so sorry. I should have gone about this all differently. I wasn’t thinking. The sirens were wailing and people were saying to get you to the bomb shelter… I think some idiot part of my brain forgot you weren’t like me.”

You sighed. “Maybe we shouldn’t date anymore.”

Loki pulled away quickly, surprising you.

“Why in the nine realms would you say that?”

“Aren’t there only eight now?”

He looked at you severely. “Why after all this time would you say that?”

“Because you lead a dangerous life. Almost all of you have some kind of healing factor, or sci-fi suit of armor, or crazy powers or _something_ that ensures that you will probably make it through. I… I don’t have any of that. I have nothing to keep me safe, I can only ever be a burden to you.”

“You’re not a burden.”

“You left me and I almost _died_.”

“Uh, kiddos?” Tony asked as he flew into view and hovered over you two. “I know that we’ve all experienced a lot today, but if we could get back to the tower and discuss what the hell just happened, I think we could begin to figure out who was just attacking us.”

Loki looked around. Emergency responders had begun combing through the wreckage as the dust settled. “We’ll meet you back there.”

Tony nodded and flew off.

Loki turned to you. “Can we please save this for later? I _promise_ you, we’ll discuss this.”

You sighed and nodded.

And suddenly you were in Stark Tower.

 

* * *

 

And you were fine. You were haggard and tired and kind of wanted to throw up, but you were fine.

Everyone else also looked tired and dirty and like they had seen their life flash before their eyes once or maybe four times. Peter was already sat at the counter, sipping on a Capri Sun he had grabbed from the fridge. He gave you a nod as you walked in and offered a second one to you.

“Thanks,” you said with a smile and stabbed the yellow straw through… well, where it was _supposed_ to go through, where it was _designed_ to go through. In reality, you had stabbed the spot a millimeter to the left and now the metallic plastic was stretched out and you couldn’t get your goddamned drink open. Your hands began to shake again as you fumbled with the bastard, the inherent slick texture of the package meaning that you were now having a hard time holding onto it.

Peter watched you as you sighed deeply and kept trying.

“Here, here, let me do it.”

A second later and you were sitting next to him also sipping a Capri Sun while Loki stood behind you with his hand on your shoulder.

Tony, ever the fashionably late one, finally arrived and his suit seemed to dissolve and return to his glowy heart thing. He had told you what it was called once but you forgot.

“Staff meeting?” He asked, several Avengers looked up at him, tired and not in the mood for his normally quippy behavior. “Staff meeting,” he said to himself.

A unanimous sigh made its way through the room.

“Alright team, who the _hell_ did we just fight?”

“Some kind of… green alien guys,” Peter offered after a few minutes when no one else responded.

Tony nodded. “Very astute, Parker,” he walked over to the other side of the counter where Pepper had just started pouring the coffee she had finished brewing. He kissed her on the temple and picked up a mug, sipping it. “Too hot. But good,” he smiled at her as he raised the mug.

Pepper gestured to the other mugs as she kept pouring, wordlessly asking everyone else if they wanted any.

Wanda and Bruce both picked up a mug and tested it before setting it back down, both reached for the milk and sugar. Rhodey tested his and then took the sugar when Wanda offered it. T’Challa, who you still had not been introduced to and were seeing for the first time in person (you knew who he was from the news) declined to take a mug. Thor happily took one and shoveled sugar into it, and when Pepper asked you, Peter, and Loki if you wanted any, you and Peter both held up your Capri Suns while Loki shook his head ‘no.’

“Why does Tony have Capri Sun anyway?” You asked.

Before Pepper could answer, Peter piped up, “I walked into the kitchen one day and opened the fridge to see if there was anything to eat. I see a whole carton of Capri Suns in there and I asked Mr. Stark, ‘Wow, you really like Capri Sun, huh?’ He told me he didn’t know what high schoolers drank and that was his best guess.” He ended with a shrug.

You chuckled. “Did you actually drink them?”

“Aunt Mae wouldn’t buy them for me when I was younger since they’re not healthy—”

“Makes sense.”

“—so I only drink them when I’m here.”

“Well,” you held up your packet like a glass, “to not knowing what ‘the kids’ drink,” and Peter hit his packet against yours in a toast over flavored sugar water.

You heard Loki chuckle and felt his fingers squeeze your shoulder for a moment. You turned and looked up at him, and he smiled at you.

Fury walked in and noticed the mugs on the table, Pepper smiled at him and he took one and walked over to the sitting area. “Well… that was fun wasn’t it?” He asked the room and then sipped his probably scalding coffee. “Does anyone know what the _hell_ is going on? Other than our new friends appear to be retreating?”

That was good at least. With part of the team away on other missions, defending New York City had been a hassle. Not that you knew what it was like to defend anywhere else, but from the looks of everyone in the room, it had been hard on everyone.

“No idea,” Tony shrugged.

Loki spoke up. “I partially recognize the ship designs and some of the writing from my time on Sakaar, but I can’t read it and wouldn’t be able to tell you where they’re from.”

Fury sipped his coffee and sighed as he contemplated the day. Everyone in the room waited for him to speak again and give some direction.

Finally, after a few moments, he spoke. “I’m going to call Danvers. I had her on another mission but I think she’d better come back. The people who attacked us look like Skrull. She and I were involved with an… incident with them some years back. I thought they were peaceable then, but maybe they’ve changed their minds.”

“I can have Shuri look at one of the ships and see if she can figure anything out,” T’Challa said.

Fury nodded, downed the rest of his coffee and stood. “Other than that, you all know what to do. I’ll have S.H.I.E.L.D. comb through everything we have and let you know when we find something.” With that, he strode out of the room.

“Is he always like that?” You asked Loki.

“He is normally quite glib, yes.”

You nodded and sipped your drink. “So what do we do? Since we ‘know what to do.’”

“Recoup. Run tests. Wait for orders,” Tony explained.

You nodded and sipped your drink again. You reached the bottom with a horrendous bubbling sucking sound and put the empty foil sachet onto the counter.

Loki’s fingers tightened on your shoulder again and you looked up at him. You searched his eyes, his features, hoping to understand what he was trying to silently convey to you. You felt you understood. You stood and he took your hand and the two of you walked to his room.

 

* * *

 

Stark Tower had suffered minimal damage owing to it being the second iteration of itself. It had state-of-the-art earthquake technology not normally seen on the east coast, something Tony felt would be useful after all the tremors the Stark Tower 1.0 had endured during the Chitauri Invasion. It also had a new style of concrete specially designed by Tony that was resistant to blunt trauma, meaning that less would have to be repaired if something big hit it.

The upper floors were mostly unscathed, and it made you further wonder why you had to even go to the bomb shelter in the first place. As soon as Loki closed the door behind you, you had to ask, “Before you say anything: could you maybe ask Tony why he has his bomb shelters in the basement when these floors are almost completely okay?”

“I think maybe bomb shelters are just _supposed_ to be in the basement, from what I’m told, but I can ask.”

You nodded and sat on the bed. “Thank you.”

“Now, about our conversation earlier…” he sat next to you. “Do you really think we should break up?”

“I, I don’t know.” You sighed deeply.

Loki looked away.

“I feel like, because your life is so dangerous, if we stay together I would only ever be a burden to you because you’d have to help the Avengers _and_ keep me safe at the same time.”

“I’m an Avenger – honorary Avenger – precisely _because_ I want to keep people safe. That includes you.”

“Yeah, but all those people are people you’ve never met who are safe in bomb shelters or whatever, not your idiot girlfriend who you convinced to fly an alien ship around shooting things.”

He blinked. “Do you think I coerced you into flying the ship?”

“I—maybe a little. I wanted to help since no one was around but in hindsight, it seems like it was a bad idea.”

“Anything one does that involves them almost dying seems like a bad idea in hindsight. I’ve experienced the feeling more than a few times.”

You sighed. “I don’t know. I don’t know anymore.”

Loki was silent as he picked as the palm of his hand. “I—maybe I shouldn’t have convinced you to keep flying the ship. But in my defense, I knew you would be good at it.”

You nodded.

“And you were great at it. For someone who had never even flown a human plane, you picked it up quite quickly.”

You blushed a little but then came back to your senses. “Until that last idiot knocked out the thrusters and decided to dead drop me from the sky.”

Loki nodded. “If my earpiece hadn’t been crushed, I would have known sooner.”

“Did you know there was a door that high up?”

“That was the other thing that made it take time, I had to look for one. And it took so long that you had already fallen past the first one.”

You shuddered.

“I know,” Loki responded as if he heard your internal thoughts. “Listen, if you fear for your safety so much that you want to break up, I won’t argue against you. You deserve to be with someone who is further removed from danger than I am.”

“The thing is… I don’t _want_ to break up with you, but I don’t know if I can go through almost dying again.”

Loki nodded.

The two of you sat in silence. You couldn’t imagine what he could have possibly been thinking. You weren’t even sure what _you_ were thinking. You didn’t want to break up but you definitely felt like you should. Earlier, when you were barely able to speak because you were hyperventilating and crying so much, you had real fear for your safety. You had almost died, _of course_ you had fear for your safety; who wouldn’t, in that situation? But as the feeling dulled and time moved forward and you became temporally further away from where – rather _when_ – you were collapsed in Loki’s arms on 42nd street sobbing your eyes out and almost unable to breathe, it started to feel like maybe it wasn’t _as_ important as it seemed at the time.

Why were you always so incredibly blasé about everything all the time? Was that your superpower?

“I doubt you would be the kind of person who would want to live in a safe house in the middle of nowhere,” Loki stated.

Pulled from your thoughts, you laughed awkwardly. “Uh, not really.”

He nodded.

“I don’t really like the city, but I still want people to talk to.”

Loki nodded again. “Of course. You’re a human, I can’t expect you to be happy living in a cage.”

You sighed and laid back on the bed. “I just wish I had powers, skills, _anything_.”

Loki laid down beside you, his chin propped up on his arm as he watched you. “I could try teaching you my mother’s magic again.”

“It didn’t work last time, why would it work this time?”

You couldn’t tell if he was taken aback by the directness of your statement. “You could try asking Wanda or Strange.”

“I guess. Not now, obviously.”

“Obviously.”

You closed your eyes for a moment and covered them with your arm and sighed. How come other people had powers and you didn’t? You’ve never felt so boring and uninspired in your life. Maybe _that_ was your power: apathy.

“I don’t think I was wrong in my assessment that you’re smart and clever.”

You picked up your arm and looked at him.

“Because you are those things. And you’re always thinking.”

You couldn’t help but smile a small smile.

“Is it just that not having powers makes you feel inadequate?”

“You hit the nail on the head.”

He looked at you as he thought. “What if… T’Challa wants to take one of the captured ships to Wakanda so his sister can take a look at them, what do you think about visiting?”

“To help them do research? I’m not a scientist.”

“It could also be like a vacation. It’s beautiful there.”

Your stomach rumbled. You had completely forgotten it was past lunch because all of the _everything_ that happened.

“Hungry?” Loki asked with a laugh.

“Apparently.”

He stood and held out his hand to you. “Come on, let’s get some lunch.”

 

* * *

 

Everyone had left by the time you went back into the kitchen, leaving the two of you ample space to make lunch and some tea to go with it. Loki had kept quiet about the topic while he was cooking, but now that both of you were sitting and the counter and almost done eating, he brought it up again.

“So, what do you think about visiting Wakanda?”

“Aren’t they a tiny agrarian nation?”

“The—” Loki paused for a moment and smiled. “Well, it’s a tiny nation, yes, but it’s not all agrarian.”

You narrowed your eyes at him in disbelief for a moment. “Are you going to tell me that it’s actually like… super advanced?”

He nodded as he sipped his tea.

You sighed. “I’m not even going to argue with you, an alien, about a hyper-developed nation being hidden in plain sight for all this time. I’m not even going to try.”

He laughed.

“I mean, their king is also a superhero. There’s no point in my trying to argue.”

He laughed again and set his cup down.

“Are you two friends?”

“We know each other because of the Avengers. Obviously.”

“Oh _obviously_ ,” you mocked him your best Robin Leech too-posh-for-the-world voice. “Oh my brother and I, you know my brother, don’t you? Also an alien, god of thunder? Well my brother and I _just_ so happen to be in the Avengers – super heroing outfit, don’t you know – and we _just_ so happen to know the _king_ of _Wakanda_.”

He watched you with a raised eyebrow as you sipped your tea with your pinkie up and then dabbed at the corners of your mouth and pretended to wave at the plebs.

There were no plebs because you were sitting in the kitchen at Stark Tower but Dum-E, who was out of Tony’s office again and wandering around for some reason, waved back.

“Oh, the people they _adore me_.” You blew it kisses.

“You know, Thor was talking about how T’Challa was telling him that Wakanda was beautiful at this time of year and if you’re going to keep doing that impersonation of whoever that is, I’m just going to go without you.”

“Well, now that you’ve said it’s all futuristic and shit, I want to see.”

“Nah, I think I’ll just pop over on my own.”

“Pop over?”

He nodded.

“Pop over.”

He stared at you.

“Just gonna pop on over like it’s nothing.” That got you going a second time, “You _know_ whenever I have the _urge_ I just pop over to _Wakanda_. I pop _over_.”

“Okay. Well.” And he stood and brought his plates over to the sink.

“ _Dah-ling_ don’t do that, what will the _help_ think?”

Loki dropped his plate and cup into the dishwasher and eyeballed you after he closed it.

Dum-E slowly zoomed by the door back the other way and waved at you.

You waved back. “Shouldn’t he be in Tony’s lab or something?”

He folded his arms. “Maybe he wanted to see a prime example of a ridiculous person who isn’t going to Wakanda.”

“Hey,” you said as you stood with your own plate and knocked the unwanted food into the garbage, “you have to grant me that, to the average, non-magical, non-superhero human – as I am – that someone asking if you want to go to a super-secret-hidden-sci-fi-future-country is a least a _little_ weird. Just a little bit. I’ve been giving you a whole lot of ‘benefit of the doubt’s’ but even _you_ have to admit that sometimes it seems like your doubt-benefits are running out. Republicans have stolen your doubt-benefits and you’re on your last legs, buddy.”

“I suppose… to someone unused to the idea of things bigger than them—”

“Hey, I’m not unused to the idea, I’ve played RPGs my whole life. It’s just weird that these things actually exist.”

He made an expression that seemed to indicate that maybe you had just proved him right. “Someone unused to concepts might have a hard time dealing with them for the first time.” He opened the dishwasher for you.

“That sounds very vague.” You placed your dish in the dishwasher and then drank what was left of your tea before putting it in as well.

“Because it is.” He slid it closed.

You leaned against the counter. “So how long will it take us? Five minutes?” You laughed.

“Sadly there are no doors that I know of that open near Wakanda.”

“Really? Why not?”

He shrugged. “Frankly, I don't know. I have a suspicion it might have something to do with the multitude of vibranium contained in the rock under the country, but I can't be sure.”

“Huh. I guess your powers have some limitations after all.” You smiled with the purpose of antagonizing him.

He inclined his head and smiled wryly.

“So, are we taking a normal flight? You have to be a flight risk.” From New York to Wakanda had to be nine or ten hours. The last time you were on a flight that long was your trip to Peru. The thought of sitting in one place for ten hours straight didn't exactly elicit excitement from your brain, but the thought of being very far away from a place you hated did.

Life was filled with good and bad, you supposed.

“I'm not sure if I am. Regardless, we can take one of Stark’s planes. We'll get there much faster.”

You raised an eyebrow. “How much faster?”

“About four hours?”

“Hmm. Only four hours of jet lag. That's actually not too bad.”

It wasn't.

“What's jet lag?”

Of course.

You rolled your eyes. “Jet lag is a thing humans get when they move through time zones. It screws with your internal clock either adding or taking hours away from your day, and the only way to get rid of it is to sleep.”

“Oh. I've never had that. Maybe Asgardians don't get it.”

“I wouldn't be surprised.” You joined him in leaning against the counter. You nodded towards him as if you just showed up and hadn’t been having a conversation for the past few minutes. “Sup?”

He laughed. “You’re a little weird, you know that?”

“So I’ve been told.”

“I wasn’t being funny before when I said that I hoped to say ‘I love you’ first.”

“Ah,” you looked at the ground, not knowing what to say.

“I suppose it doesn’t matter now if you really want to break up.”

You sighed. “I don’t want to break up, I was freaking out when I said that. It’s just that… I don’t want to be afraid of almost dying and I don’t want to feel like a burden to you.”

“But you don’t feel like a burden to me.”

“I don’t mean that _you_ feel like I’m a burden, I mean that _I_ feel like I’m being a burden. They’re two different things.”

He nodded. “We just need to figure something out, is all.” He put his arm around you and you leaned into his embrace.

You pulled away. “I need to pack.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Leave a comment and let me know if you like it! :)
> 
> Just so you know, I may or may not update next week since I've now gotten into the chapters that weren't 100% written before I started uploading, and have to actually write stuff again. (And of course, I don't have time to do it.)  
> I'm not sure yet if this is going to affect my upload schedule that much, but it could go from "once a week" now to "every other week". Or one or the other depending on how much writing the chapter needs that week.
> 
> If there's a group of people who need Basic Income it's fanfic writers. We willingly give up entire multiple novels for free, I think that should grant me at least that, lol.


	13. Chapter 13

It turned out that T'Challa had already gone back to Wakanda with one of the alien race's ships in tow.

If there was one thing that could be said about the man, it was that he didn't waste time.

If there were two things that could be said, they were that he didn't waste time, and had a fabulous catsuit to fight in. Who _was_ his tailor?

Loki proposed his idea: part vacation/part research getaway idea to Tony, and he set the four of you – as Wanda and Thor had decided to go as well – up with one of the smaller Stark Industry planes that he used when he had to go somewhere for work but also wanted to go there in style.

The plane was nice. The cabin was furnished comfortably in the finest leathers and woods. Instead of a TV in the seat in front of you, and having to dodge it when the jerk in front of you put his chair all the way back, there was a larger TV the four of your could watch together. It even had a steward who served all of you lunch when you were over the Atlantic. You weren't sure what lunch was, you poked at it and guessed that it might be some kind of very expensive mushroom dish. The mushrooms in it were probably was only grown in one very particular cave where no one could find them, thus making them exponentially more expensive than a white cap or porcini the rabble could by at most supermarkets. You tried to discern what the ingredients could possibly be, and you noticed Loki smiling at you as you did so.

“What?” You asked, hunched over your plate and still poking at your food.

“It's edible, I promise.”

“It might be edible, but the real question is ‘Do I want to eat it?’”

Loki smiled and took a bite of his own food.

You narrowed your eyes at him – you supposed he was right, it was probably good – and took a bite of your own.

It was definitely some kind of mushroom, or something to do with a mushroom. More accurately, what you thought was all mushroom was more like the ‘la croix’ of fungi-inspired dishes. It had a good deal of lentils and something that looked like wheat berries and was seasoned with spices. You supposed it was nice of Tony to have his chef give you something fancy, but also healthy as the four of you flew to Wakanda.

The plane flew in both camouflage and stealth modes the entire way to Wakanda, so no one over the nearby countries would be startled when it suddenly disappeared, and controls towers in the area wouldn’t have cause for concern when it suddenly went off the radar.

You reflected on the food and on the plane itself: It must be nice to be so rich and be able to afford such things, and at the same time, the fact that you were having gold leafed gelato while hurtling through the air at however many thousands of miles an hour was absolutely ridiculous. You couldn’t help but laugh at yourself. And at least Tony had reformed the military-industrial ties of his company years ago. You sighed.

Getting onto the plane, you had intended to take a nap to make up for the lost time, but between the lunch and Thor excitedly telling you about how much fun you were going to have in Wakanda – he told a story about how he tried to play with – or fight, rather – a war rhino the last time he was there, you didn't have time to sleep.

Wanda was as quiet as she always was, and the two of you passed the time listening to Thor and Loki tell stories as if there had never been any bad blood between them.

Landing was much more gentle than any plane ride you had been on before, and the steward opened the door for you and Loki to exit. You were greeted by three individuals. You suddenly realized that you had no idea what to do in the presence of royalty. Were you supposed to shake hands? Curtsy? Kiss rings? Were those all European responses from being born into a European-descended society and now you were in Africa so they were all probably wrong choices anyway and-- _OH GOD_.

“Darling, might I introduce king T'Challa, his sister, the princess Shuri, and his wife queen Nakia.”

You nodded and smiled at each of them as they were introduced, terrified because you didn't know what you were supposed to be doing, until you laid eyes on Nakia.

She was utterly gorgeous. Stunningly gorgeous. _Cripplingly gorgeous_ even. You suddenly forgot you name as you stared at her.

“...Hi.”

Nakia held out her hand, “It's nice to meet you.”

“Hng-- nice.” You shook it.

Shuri giggled.

You were fucking up so hard that you could feel the shame burn through your bones and there wasn’t a goddamned thing you could do to stop yourself. Thor and Wanda stood off to the side and when Thor stifled a laugh, Wanda elbowed him in the side.

Loki, ever on his toes, sprang into action.

“You'll have to excuse us. The flight over was lovely but I fear we might have a bit of jet lag. Might we be shown to our rooms to freshen up?”

“There is no problem,” T’Challa said with a smile. “A member of the Dora Milije will show you to your room, and I will have your luggage brought to you shortly.”

“Thank you so much.”

The king summoned one of the guards and she began the trek from the landing pad to your room. Loki made sure to grab your cabin bag – as you had obviously forgotten about it – before grabbing your hand and pulling you into step with him as the two of you followed close behind her.

 

* * *

 

The palace, you weren’t sure if you should call it that, was grand. It combined ancient designs and aesthetics with modern – compared to where you came from, practically futuristic – ideals perfectly. To say you were in awe would have been a massive understatement. The two of you got a show as you walked through the halls to your room. So much of it was gilded and embellished with the motifs of animals and geometric designs, it was Art Deco meets the Harlem Renaissance meets a much more melanized Flash Gordon.

You were in love.

It was a testament to the stupidity of the European colonization of Africa, a monument to what people can do when they aren't being oppressed by outsiders who wished to burn their cultures to the ground, enslave their people, and steal their resources.

As you walked, the warrior who escorted you told you the history of Wakanda, how a meteor of purest vibranium had originally ignited a war amongst the tribal peoples who lived there, but that one had convinced the others to work together and form a union made of strength and cooperation. Later the technology created by researching the meteorite was used to create everything that surrounded you; from housing to clothing to the cloaking devices that kept Wakanda safe from rest of the world.

“There are also the Jabari tribe who live in the mountains as they have not always agreed with the other tribes of Wakanda. Their leader is M’Baku,” she continued as she walked.

“Really?” Loki asked. “I’ve never met him before.”

“If you wish to meet him you may ask T’Challa to arrange a meeting.” She turned on her heel and faced you and held out two key cards. “This is your room.”

Loki smiled and took the cards. “Thank you very much,” and opened the door.

You smiled at her, and she nodded back.

“The king will send someone in a few hours when dinner is ready.”

“Excellent,” Loki smiled again. “Thank you so much.”

The warrior made a slight bow and then walked off down the hallway.

Loki held the door open for you and you walked in. You took your bag from him and put it on the dresser and then sprawled out across the bed as he opened the curtains and looked out the window.

“Such a beautiful country,” he said more to himself than to you and turned to find you laying on the bed. “Are you alright?”

“I can't believe I froze up in front of the queen,” you groaned.

Loki laughed. “If it makes you feel better, Shuri told me T'Challa used to freeze up in front of her all the time.”

You pressed your palms into your face and groaned again. “She's just so _beautiful._ Like, I wasn't expecting her to be so pretty. She's so pretty that my brain went completely stupid. _How can one person possibly be that pretty?_ ”

Loki laid across the bed from the other side. “I think she'll forgive you.”

You looked at him. “But the question is, can I forgive myself?”

He smiled. “Do you think it's going to happen again?”

“Oh my god, just kill me if it does.”

He pressed his lips to your forehead. “You'll be fine.”

“I have this feeling that being with you means that I'm going to forever feel inadequate in some way.”

He smoothed your hair away from your face as he looked at you. “I wish I could explain to you that you don't have to feel that way.”

“I know I don't _have_ to, but anxiety and depression aren't logical, so I feel like I am anyway.”

The corner of his mouth tugged back in an unsure smile and he leaned forward and ran his fingers through your hair, a sign of gentle affection. The two of you rested for a while and you began to drift off to sleep.

A knock at the door woke you with a jolt. You sat up, only for the pang of a headache to force you to lie back down.

“Are you alright?” Loki asked as he walked over to the door.

“How long was I asleep for?”

“Two, maybe three minutes?” He opened the door and it was one of the butlers with the luggage. “Ah, thank you. Let me help.”

You held your head and groaned as Loki helped the butler bring your luggage into the room and thanked him.

“Would you like anything else, sir?”

“No, I think we're fine.” He looked at you and reconsidered. “Perhaps something for a headache.”

“Yes, sir.” The butler turned and left to find aid.

“Why did you let me fall asleep?”

Loki sat next to you on the bed. “You looked so peaceful and you were worried about being tired, so…”

“That's exactly how you _get_ jet lag. The way you stop it is by staying awake all day and then going to sleep early at night.”

“Ohh, alright. It's about timing.”

“Yes.”

A knock was heard again, and Loki answered and accepted the bottle of painkillers from the butler.

“You'll find glasses by the sink,” the butler added.

“Thank you very much.”

“Dinner will be in about two and a half hours, I'll be back to collect you then.”

“Thank you,” Loki responded before the butler left again.

He closed the door behind him and handed you the small bottle. “I'll get you some water.”

You nodded and dumped two tablets into your palm and put them in your mouth. Loki handed you the water and you swallowed them.

“How did you know medicine had to be taken with water?”

“I've seen people take medication before. I'm not a complete alien, I do observe those around me.”

You chuckled as you stood and placed the glass on the adjacent dresser. “You do seem more observant than most people I know.”

“Observing you is one of my favorite things,” he said as he walked up behind you.

You turned to face him and tried to fight off the blush you felt coming on by changing the subject. “Okay, we have two hours to hang out before we get ready for dinner and I can't fall asleep, what do we do? Should we take a walk somewhere? Do they have a museum we can go see?”

Loki smiled at you wolfishly.

“What?”

He took a step closer to you and brushed a fallen wisp of hair behind your ear. “We don't _have_ to leave the room.” He put his arms around you and clasped them at your lower back.

“Oh?” You asked, feeling your cheeks flush.

“Mhm.” He grazed the tip of your nose with his own before letting his lips brush against yours.

Your mouth reflexively opened, but he pulled away.

“I know a few things that might serve to keep you awake.”

“For two hours?”

“Two and a half,” he narrowed his eyes as he walked you backwards towards the wall.

“Well, we do have to get ready for dinner and then the butler will probably show up a little early.”

“What makes you say that?”

“Staff tend to be very prompt.”

“Ahh,” Loki nodded, humoring you. “You must know it from all the _other_ times you’ve been in palaces.”

“Well, you know, when I pop over to _Wakanda_.”

“Don’t start that again,” he laughed, and before you could do the accent again, he kissed you.

His kisses, no matter how many times he kissed you, always made you melt. Your resolve as a standing person weakened as your knees did, and he backed you up against the wall and pinned you there with his own body. Pressed up against you as he was, some primal part of his ancient brain couldn't help but take over, and he slowly ground his hips into yours. The feel of his hardening erection through layers of fabric was enough to make you wet, and you could feel your underwear begin to stick to you because of it.

You didn't even want to try and calculate when the last time you had sex was. If your skin was touch-starved before you had him to kiss, then the rest of you was like a person lost in the desert, in the brink of death. Your sex life was as bone dry as sand, and when his lips met yours their heat washed over yours like cool water running over the dry, cracked lips of a person about to die from dehydration.

The gentle insistence of his tongue had compelled yours to meet his, his played with yours in a flurry of heat and wetness. You couldn't help but moan into his mouth as his fingers seemed to be everywhere at once. For someone as formerly maniacal as he was, he was surprisingly tender; his kisses softer than you ever would have thought, and his touch gentler than you could have guessed, he had always been so gentlemanlike when kissing you.

Now: he was still tender, but the former softness he exuded from a desire to be respectful was melting away, heated from within by his own barely restrained desire to touch you. And his restraint over that desire was crumbling quickly; he was becoming rougher, more insistent in his attentions. His grip was tighter, his movements more forceful. You liked it.

He pulled your hips towards his, momentarily wrapping his arms around you, then pressed you into the wall again. His hands slid slowly from your hips and up to your breasts as they felt for you under the fabric of your dress. He pulled away for a moment and rested his hands back on your hips.

“What?” you breathed heavily.

He touched his forehead to yours and smiled. “I was just thinking how jealous I was of you that you said, ‘I love you’ first.”

“Did it mean that much to you to say it first?”

He shrugged before nodding. “Yeah.”

“Why?”

“I had been wanting,” he laughed nervously, “to tell you I loved you since our picnic. You listened to my entire insane life and were never for a moment afraid—of the things I’ve done or of me. You say you're not confident but there are few people who would listen to that and still stick around, you’re not just confident, you're fearless. You say we're not on the same level, but it's because you’re on a level is so much higher than mine--”

“Loki…” He was obviously being foolish.

“I'm serious. Most people would have run for their own safety upon learning that I led the Invasion of New York. Even after all the work Tony’s PR people have done to try and salvage my reputation.”

“Most people would have already known about it.” You rolled your eyes.

“Most people would have been afraid of me. Most people would have been too scared to go to court against the man who attacked them. Most people would have been too scared to fly a ship they've _never_ flown before…” he searched your eyes for a moment as he thought, and then he smiled widely. “I have done so many stupid things in my life because I was afraid. _I'm_ not on _your_ level because you're _fearless_.”

You tilted your head in confusion. You righted it and found it hard to make eye contact, suddenly uncomfortable under his gaze... “There is so much I'm afraid of.”

“But if you were in any of those moments, you still pressed on. You still talked to me, you still showed up for your court dates, you still flew that ship and saved people.”

You listened, his words speaking truth, regardless of how much you didn’t believe what he said. That small, nagging voice that spent your whole life criticizing you was like a shield, blocking anything good he could possibly tell you about yourself. If there was a shield, you wanted to lower it. To let him and in and let him be close. ‘Old habits die hard,’ you guessed.

If only they would die.

“I don’t just love you because you're one of the few people I've met who has a fashion sense like my own, and I do love you for that, I love you because you're courageous.”

Maybe he was right, maybe he had just the right combination of ‘proximity out of your own brain’ mixed with ‘goo-goo eyes for you’. That let him see the good things about you that you had become closed off to after so many years of living in the capitalist rat-race and having no time to yourself, any amount of introspection turning to self-ridicule. Maybe he could understand what you constantly misunderstood about yourself, and lay it all bare with his words for you to finally see and accept. You felt like you didn’t deserve it, and yet… You smiled, your eyes tearing slightly. “When you put it all like that, maybe I am.”

“You _are_.” He smiled and pulled you close, holding you against him like he didn't want to let go. But he did and looked into your eyes once more, “I love you.”

You smiled, the welling tears blurring your vision ever so slightly.

“And now I'm going to fuck you.”

He kissed you again, firmly, sweetly, and pulled away. The act of closing your eyes in anticipation of the kiss had squeezed a tear onto each cheek, and he wiped them away before kissing you again. You couldn’t identify the emotion that made you tear up, though. It wasn’t sadness… happiness? The feeling of being accepted? Understood? He moved to your neck, angling your head upward and as your head tilted back, the thoughts of self-reflection seemed to fall out.

You decided to shove all your emotional baggage under or into something in your subconscious and ignore it for now. Thoughts will always be around to agonize over and flagellate yourself with like a medieval monk with a cat-o-nine-tails.

The present was for more important things.

You giggled as he kissed your neck, nipping at the soft skin there. He gently bit and licked down to your collarbone, the warmth of his tongue on your skin giving way to the coolness of the air as his saliva evaporated. You held onto his elbows as he kissed you. You wanted to touch him so badly, the two of you having been in close proximity before, having kissed before, but never having gone this far before.

You got proactive. While he concentrated on your neck, you began unbuttoning his shirt. Your fingers deftly worked each button out of its buttonhole all the way down, and he trailed his fingers up your legs in appreciation. As you made your way to the bottom, you slipped your fingers under his belt for moment before you pulled his shirt out to untuck it. He pulled away and pushed his blazer off his shoulders and threw it onto the desk chair, then took his shirt off and threw it there too.

This was the first time you had seen him with no shirt. He was lithe, lacking the over-exaggerated muscularity of his brother but he still had the appearance of strength. His skin was exceptionally pale, nearly translucent the way it reflected light, and completely flawless. The perfect goth. You couldn't help but reach out and touch him as he turned back to you.

“You're just…” you trailed off, not knowing how to finish the sentence.

He smiled and touched the sides of your legs again as he teased the hem of your dress up. His lips captured yours again as he pressed himself against you. You ran your hands down his chest and stomach, resting them at his belt where you set upon unbuckling it. He hitched his fingers in the waistband of your underwear and slid them down.

Once you felt his warm hands palm the flesh of your rump, you realized that this was the point of no return. You were about to have sex with a ‘god,’ an alien, a man who appreciated the hell out of you, someone who loved you and wanted to see you happy.

Someone who already made you happy.

Someone who was about to, you hope, make you _very_ happy.

You kicked off your shoes and managed to get your socks off with your toes. He slid your underwear down to your knees and you shimmied out of them. You pulled his belt out of the loops in one tug and threw it to the floor. You unbuttoned his pants and he pushed them down for you, his already hard cock springing free from the confines of his clothing. He pressed you up against the wall again, pinning you with his hips, his cock between your legs. You could feel the heat radiating off of it as he grasped both cheeks of your rump firmly and pulled you against him

The dull, warm ache of desire that bloomed in the lowest part of your belly began to permeate your blood and spiked into a very sharp instance when you felt his fingers grasp your skin. The proximity of his hard cock coupled with the caging of his hands made your cunt throb, as it was suddenly enclosed in the exact opposite of a chastity belt.

A ‘someone is about to get _fucked_ belt’, if you will.

His girth took up any space between your thighs, and you could feel how big he was as his cock was enrobed by the soft skin there. He worked your hips on himself slowly, your clit running up and down his shaft as he did so. It was a sweet kind of torture, as the head of his cock slid past it and he grinded his hips into yours, his heat and hardness sliding against your clit and lips over and over again. As he thrusted between your legs you could feel the blood rush to that spot more, and you felt the brewing wetness between your legs begin to coat his shaft leading to a delicious sort of quick friction, the once rough feeling of skin on skin giving way to a deliciously slick smoothness.

He huffed, the heat of his breath spreading over your neck and shoulder, making you skin prickle with the contrast of the cool air of the room. He brought his lips back to yours as he continued his thrusting and pressed his chest up to yours. His lips never leaving yours, he lifted your feet off the ground and held you against the wall. You gasped quietly as he lowered you, his hard, warm cock sliding into your ready wetness. You felt him smile against your lips at the sound.

“Are you okay?”

You couldn't help but moan appreciatively at the feeling of warmth and fullness he gave you as you stretched around him. Every inch of him was _extra_.

“Mmmore than okay.”

He smiled again and kissed you as he thrust gently at first, sliding out of you slowly as he held you up with his strong hands. His pace quickened and then steadied as he kissed your neck. You could tell he was eager, this was your first time together so he had to be. He inhaled deeply and slowed. After a few thrusts, he pulled his lips away and pulled out of you a sudden and surprising void coming over your spirit. He lifted you off of the wall, turned, and walked the both of you towards the bed. Like an expert, he laid you down at the same time he was able to pull your dress all the way off you. Which you, in your love-and-sex-drenched haze, weren’t sure how he did. He kicked off his shoes off and took off his socks and pants, discarding all of it haphazardly to the floor.

You sat up and undid your own bra and flung it to the floor and he looked at you, all of you.

“You're beautiful,” was the only thing he could say when struck by the sight of you.

You blushed for a moment as he lowered himself to you, kissing you again. After a few moments he opened your legs with his own and trailed his fingers up the insides of your thighs, to your stomach, and finally to your breasts where he grasped them lovingly and circled his thumbs around your nipples gently. He smiled gently as he watched your emotions play across your face at his touch.

You pleaded, wordlessly. The mewls that escaped your lips coupled with your expression demanded a continuation of how the two of you were before he brought you to the bed. His smile broadened.

His hands moved back to your legs where he lifted them up and joined with you. You stretched around him in a sigh as his buried himself to the hilt. He moved gently again at first, an almost lazy pace meant to appreciate the culmination of what the two of you had been wanting for weeks, but never said aloud. When he was sure you had adjusted to the feeling, and that he wouldn’t cause you undue pain, that’s when he really began to thrust. He drove his hips into yours, each powerful thrust working an involuntary moan from your lips along with the occasional _’fuck!’_

In this moment, you were thankful that it seemed like your room was fairly far away from Thor's or Wanda's, and you were definitely thankful that you were far away from wherever the royal chambers were. At least the sounds of you moaning and Loki breathing heavily were most likely not meeting any ears as they travelled a short way down the hall before dying out.

He balanced on one arm for support as he roamed over your skin with his free hand. His expression softened and he slowed.

“What?” You asked.

He shook his head, loosened hair falling around your face. “Even like this, you're the most beautiful creature I've ever set eyes on.”

You narrowed your eyes at him. “Such a flatterer.”

“I speak only the truth. Your hair strewn about your face and all behind you on the bedspread, your breasts bouncing from every thrust,” he squeezed them for a moment before running his hands down your stomach.

You smiled and reached up for him. He obliged, locking lips with you for a few moments before leaning back and plowing into you once more.

“You're gorgeous.”

He licked a thumb mischievously and touched it to the sensitive bundle of nerves at the apex of your legs. His was deft and quick in his motions and soon enough had you moaning again; and, a few times, nearly screaming.

Between the length of his throbbing cock working in your cunt and the expertise of his fingers working on your clit, it was getting to be too much. You started to feel like every cell in your body was getting ready to explode as you teetered on the edge of orgasm, the coiling heat low in your belly the harbinger, the augur of your undoing.

There was something in his demeanor that made him seem placid, as if he were completely in control, his ragged breathing the only indication of the effort he was making. You couldn’t help but smile as his eyes grazed over your form, appreciating the hell out of you as you moaned and writhed beneath him. He smiled back and somehow you melted even more and dug your heels into his flanks, causing him to snap his hips into you harder.

And so you, powerless to hold back any longer, unraveled. The fire in your belly began its excruciating ache through your body, from your torso and out to your fingertips and toes, burning like wildfire through dry brush. You cursed under your breath, barely able to speak as your body was rocked by the feeling of bliss. Loki followed right behind you as you clenched around him, only managing a few more stuttered thrusts before he followed you, his thick cock emptied its white-hot release into your throbbing cunt.

Somewhere in all of that, your oxytocin- and endorphin-soaked brain noticed something. As Loki looked down at you, his normally blue eyes were almost dark in the low light of the room, and there was something else to them. Something in them seemed almost deep red, like the infrared light of a remote control you remembered staring at when you were a child, trying to figure out how it worked as you pressed the buttons and it lit up. The color was less the color of his iris than an almost shimmer that glinted off them, or a color that was under them, as if it wasn’t supposed to be there. As if it were being covered up by the blue.

“What?” He laughed breathlessly.

You weren’t even sure how to ask, or if you were really seeing what you were seeing. You shook your head and smiled, “Nothing.”

“Did you not enjoy that?” He suddenly became anxious, so different from how self-assured he was moments before.

You pulled him by the shoulders and kissed him. “I _definitely_ enjoyed that.”

He relaxed as he lay down next to you. “Oh shit,” he said, realizing something, “ _Oh shit_.”

“What?”

“You’re not going to get pregnant, are you? I should have used a condom!” His hand slapped against his forehead in the panicked reaction of someone who realized they’ve left the oven on once they finally reached their vacation destination.

“Oh my god,” you laughed and reached for his hand “Loki, I’m on birth control. It’s fine.”

“Oh. I… vaguely understand what that means.”

You sighed and took five or ten minutes to explain it while he verified if you were or weren’t going to have his child.

“I mean, I want to have kids. I mean, I think I want to… I’ve never really given much thought about it. How would a Jotun and a Midgardian even have a kid? Would it hurt you to be pregnant with a half Jotun? Can I even _get_ you pregnant?” He asked, his expression oscillating wildly between panic and calm a few times.

“Loki, it’s already under control,” you laughed.

He looked at you for a moment before relaxing. “I guess I hadn’t realized you were taking it.”

“I _guess_ you’re not as observant as you think.”

He chuckled.

You checked your phone for the time. “How about we hang out for fifteen minutes before we have to get up and get ready? I’ll set a timer.”

Loki nodded, relief washing over him as he lay back down next to you and you threw the blanket over you both.

Because of the topic of his panic, you suddenly remembered a scene in Earth Girls are Easy; an iconic movie if there ever was one. Young Geena Davis? Young and _very_ delicious Jeff Goldblum? What an 80s interstellar romp. The scene you thought of: the morning after Geena Davis and Jeff Goldblum’s characters – a ditzy California girl and an alien from outer space – have sex, she takes three birth control pills instead of one. It always made you wonder if her character really was _really_ that dumb. But after having sex with alien… you understood it.

Regardless, as you fell asleep for your nap you still giggled internally; _that’s not how that works_.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Leave a comment if you liked it! :D


	14. Chapter 14

“Do we have to dress up super fancy for dinner?”

Loki thought for a moment. “I was thinking of going with something like…” he waved his hands and he suddenly had an outfit. A deep green suit jacket that had intricate black filigree on the lapels and on the cuffs, matching pants, black velvet shoes that had the same filigree but in green, and dress shirt with a fern pattern on it, accompanied by a black velvet tie.

“You really are the _most_ , you know that?”

“I believe you’ve already insinuated that once today,” he winked at you.

_Bastard._

“Well, not all of us have super-cool shape-shifting powers that just let us look like anything we want.”

He smiled. “What were you going to wear?”

You pulled out a familiar black dress and held it up.

“That’s the one you wore on our first date, isn’t it?”

You smirked, “You remember.”

“Of course I do, I loved you in that dress.” He picked it up and then kissed you on the forehead. “And I’ll love you even more out of it later.”

You gasped a gasp of pretend scandalization. “Sir! I am a proper lady.”

“Hmm, that’s not the impression I got a few moments ago,” he slid his arms under yours and pulled you against him, “When you were breathing my name heavily and cursing.”

You went _red_ and hit him on the chest. “Stop, I’m going to go shower real quick.”

“Maybe… I could help you?”

“Not if you’re going to make us late, you aren’t.”

He laughed. “Fine, go shower ‘Oh Correct One.’”

You kissed him quickly on the nose and draped the dress over the bed before walking to the bathroom. “Does changing your clothes with magic actually make you clean?”

He hemmed and hawed for a second. “Not really? I do bathe as a normal person does, but changing my clothes with my powers doesn’t do anything else but that.”

You looked him up and down, “Maybe you _should_ shower.”

He waved his hand and his clothes were suddenly gone.

“After me!” You shut the door behind you and locked it. You could hear him laughing on the other side, the ‘god’ of trickery finally tricked.

Your shower was very quick, you had just wanted to get the feeling of sitting still on the plane for four hours off your skin and so didn’t get your hair wet at all. You emerged from the bathroom quickly, wrapped in a towel, to see Loki, still naked, lounging on the bed.

“Really?” You asked with a raised eyebrow.

He winked at you and stood.

“You’re too much,” you said as he locked a finger under the towel where it crossed your breasts and dragged it as he walked around you to the bathroom door.

“I left something for you on the bed. Wear it for dinner?”

You looked at the bed and saw a small, flat box. “It had better not be some skimpy outfit.”

He laughed and closed the door. The sound of the shower could be heard right after.

You walked over to the bed. You didn’t _really_ think it was going to be a skimpy dinner outfit, but you know he would laugh if you said it. It was most likely jewelry since it was in a box just like the last smallish, flat box he had given you. You were thankful this one didn’t include any of the anxiety of the last one. You sat on the bed and opened it.

_Holy shit._

He had really outdone himself this time.

The necklace was intended to be worn over the high collar of your dress rather than under, as you had done with another necklace the last time you wore it. It consisted of a series of quarter-sized oval cabochons of brilliantly red amber, connected in a choker-like fashion. From the center cabochon of the necklace, a pendant hung. It looked like a small, upside down torc, and hanging freely inside it was another, larger red amber oval cabochon. The clasp ended in a long chain that went midway down your back and ended in a pendant with an etched design that you recognized as having come from his suit. The entire necklace was of a darkened silver, and the ambers seemed to blaze in the light as you held it up against the black lace of your dress. You set about your makeup, hoping that you could somehow become _anywhere close_ to the beauty of Nakia (long may she _slay_ ) and got dressed.

Loki emerged from the bathroom fully dressed shortly after as you smoothed your dress and admired yourself in the mirror. “You look exquisite,” he said with a broad smile.

You turned and smiled, modeling for him. “This necklace is… I don’t know what to say.”

“Could I maybe use a bit of glamour on your dress?”

You looked down at it, “Why?”

“I just want to see something.” He touched your dress and it was like the spot he touched was taking on dye as it went from black to a deep cherry red. You watched as one color overcame the other, and the silver of the necklace didn’t look so bright anymore.

You couldn’t help but gasp at the transformation as you spun to watch the culmination of it in the mirror. “Loki…”

“Do you like it?”

“Is the dress like this permanently?”

“No. It’s still black. I could have just waved my hand over it and changed it to red, but I wanted to dazzle you with a nice effect.”

You looked at him, coquettish but with a tinge of mischievousness. “Showing off?”

“From time to time.” He put his hands on your shoulders and rested his head against yours as you continued to look in the mirror. “What do you think?” he asked quietly, in awe of your beauty.

“I love it.”

He smiled and kissed the top of your head. “You’d have a hard time making anything look bad.

You laughed and tapped his hand gently.

A knock at the door ended your moment as you made last-minute adjustments to your hair. You had put it up in a ponytail and pinned it up in such a way that it looked sort of complicated, but really wasn’t.

An icon reserved the right to be lazy.

_Lazy fashion for the win._

Of course, it was the butler, arrived to take you to the dining room.

Loki held out an arm for you to take. You placed your hand on it and the two of you followed as he led the way down the hall.

The two of you walked like this, taking in all the décor in the hallway a second time. You weren’t sure what it was, but you felt better than you had in the past few weeks.

Firstly, you couldn’t get over the fact that you two had _finally_ had sex. Something you had wanted to do since he first kissed you weeks ago. You didn’t want to bring it up at first – in case it made everything weird – but you also were _very_ unaware of how Asgardians went about their… to use an anthropological term: courtship? And as you walked down the hall you wondered if waiting for more than a month was normal or not. At the very least, you could admit that the court drama, your depression, and the surprise alien invasion had probably put a damper on the flow of things. But now: the court drama was over, the strange alien invasion was recent, but you were so physically far away that it was starting to feel like a dream, and you were on the arm of the guy you loved.

Everything was strangely perfect.

This was the moment in a movie where some horrible villain might plow through the building on a giant drill or something, taking the butler with it, leaving the two of you to spring into action and fight but… fortunately, you were not in a movie; where dramatic irony sometimes upended the plot in the service of a laugh.

Somehow, _somehow_ , this was your real life.

_Weird._

The butler opened the door to the dining room for you, and you were met with the smiles of the rest of your party. The butler showed you to your seats, thankfully you were right next to each other, and left the room. Loki pulled your seat out for you and pushed it in when you sat, then sat next to you.

He looked around the table, “Where is my brother?”

“He had left to contact Heimdall and the other Asgardians living here. We told him when dinner was, he should be back shortly,” T’Challa said.

Loki nodded.

T’Challa sat at the head of the table, while Nakia sat at the other end. The table wasn’t very large, as if they had brought one that fit the size of the party in and moved out a much larger one. Wanda sat to Nakia’s left with an empty seat next to her left for Thor.

Princess Shuri was absent.

“Speaking of siblings, where is your sister, T’Challa?”

“She is in her lab poring over the ship. I asked her if she wanted to eat but she said she couldn’t leave. To quote her, ‘You bring me an alien ship and expect me to sit and eat dinner while it sits in my lab?’” T’Challa laughed. “You can visit her in the lab tomorrow if you wish.”

“Thank you. Some of the writing seemed vaguely like something I had seen on Sakaar and I wanted to see if I could be of assistance.”

“I’m sure she won’t mind,” T’Challa smiled.

“Y/N,” Wanda whispered, “I love your dress.”

“Thank you.”

“Where did you get that necklace? It’s beautiful.”

“It really is,” Nakia added.

You tried not to get flustered like you had earlier. “Thank you. Loki just gave it to me.”

T’Challa leaned forward from his spot at the table to better see your necklace. He nodded and sat back, “You know, Loki, I don’t see you for a long time and then you show up dressed the way you are and having the things you have, and then I’m suddenly reminded again that you’re a prince.”

Loki laughed. “Does it not seem like I am normally?”

“It is because I spend so much time around your brother. He doesn’t have the sense of class and refinement that you do. He’s much more… what’s that American phrase?” He thought for a moment as everyone waited. “Ah, ‘rough-and-tumble.’”

“’From the velds?’” Nakia asked.

T'Challa nodded.

You guessed that must be the Wakandan equivalent.

“Ahh,” Loki nodded. “You would, most likely, not be surprised to learn that when we were children, our mother had to convince him to keep his ceremonial clothes on most of the time. He would just rip bits off and throw them across the hall.”

T’Challa chuckled. “From what I know of him, I’m not surprised to hear that in the least.”

“Did you bring that with you or is it an illusion?” Wanda asked Loki of the necklace.

You had never considered that the jewelry he had given you so far could just be a magical construct. “Is it real?” You echoed.

Loki smiled. “Everything I have given you is absolutely real.”

“Where did you have them made?” You wondered out loud.

“Several of the royal smiths from Asgard had set up shop in Sweden. When I met you, I visited them and had them create several pieces fit for a goddess.”

You inclined your head. “So there’s more.”

He smiled. “Of course.”

You laughed nervously. “We might have to visit more royalty, so I have an excuse to wear it all.”

Loki moved closer to you as everyone else continued with their own conversations in the wait for Thor. “I have no problem with introducing you to all the kings and queens of the world as the woman I love.”

You wondered if he delighted in making you blush.

The door opened and Thor walked in and stopped. It was clear that he was comparing everyone else’s dinner party attire to his own ‘casual hoodie and jeans’ look.

“Oh, should I go change first?” He asked no one in particular.

“Would you like help, brother?” Loki asked.

“Yes, actually.”

Loki waved his hand and suddenly Thor was wearing deep blue pants, a double-breasted red velvet suit jacket with silver buttons, and black shirt and tie combo.

“Very nice,” you approved.

“Little dark, don’t you think?” Thor asked as he walked to his seat next to Wanda.

“I think it suits you, brother.”

“You look very nice,” Wanda added as he sat.

“Well, now that we are all here, we can begin dinner,” T’Challa said.

“Oh, have I held up the food? You could have started without me.”

“It would have been rude,” Nakia stated plainly.

“I see,” Thor smiled. “Then thank you for waiting.”

T’Challa gave a nod to the butler who had been standing by the door, and the room was quickly filled with waitstaff who brought platters of food. The fare ranged from spiced meats to rice and fresh couscous, to vegetables cooked in various styles. T’Challa pointed at various dishes and named them and gave a short description not only for the American and the European who he figured were most likely unused to African food, but also to help the two Asgardians at the table figure out if anything appealed to their possibly extraterrestrial palate.

After he described everything, Nakia added, “You should try a little of everything, it’s all very good.”

You smiled and nodded. Everything smelled heavenly and you were only a little upset that you were having all this food when you were wearing a dress you wanted to look good in. You figured it might be impolite to gorge yourself at a dinner with a king, but you had to fight the urge to shove all the amazing looking food right into your face.

Once everyone’s plates had been loaded with food, everyone quieted down for a moment as you all began eating, and the food was as good as it smelled.

“So, brother,” Loki directed to Thor, “How is Heimdall?”

“Very well. I had hoped that we could visit with him and the other Asgardians during our stay and went to ask when they would like to see us.”

“What was their reply?”

“We can see them tomorrow or the day after.”

Loki nodded. “The day after tomorrow is good. I’ve missed Heimdall and everyone else.”

Thor smiled and returned to his food.

After the polite conversation had ended, the conversation naturally turned to the invasion, as it was the biggest thing to happen in a while.

Nakia asked about everyone’s part in the fight. It had turned out that both Thor and Wanda had pulled down one of the larger invasion vessels all by themselves. Thor, with some effort and more destruction, and Wanda, with more grace and less of a mess. T’Challa had been fighting on the ground and protecting people who were fleeing, and you finally found out why Loki had left your ship.

“--Clint then radios that he needs my help so I leave her in the ship and go find him, and it turns out that he wants to sneak onto one of the larger ships and get back a few people they had taken… before destroying the thing.”

“That’s why you were flying it?”

Loki nodded to his brother and then turned to you, “My earpiece was knocked out when I was at the helm.”

You nodded.

“Did you run to safety when he landed the ship?” Nakia directed at you.

“The one he and I were in?”

She nodded.

“Oh… no, I flew around and ran interference.”

“And she wasn’t bad for someone who’s never flown any kind of craft before,” Loki added as he proudly placed a hand on your shoulder.

“You flew an alien ship around with no help?”

You nodded.

“Were you scared? I think I would have been.”

“Uhh…” you searched your feelings now that it was hours after the incident. “I was at first, then I kind of got used to it and Tony was helping me out a little, and then the pilot of the last of the smaller ships tried to kill me so it sort of ended on a terrifying note.”

“I’m sorry I couldn’t have helped,” Wanda said, “I was all the way across town.”

“I don’t blame you or anyone else. And besides, Loki saved me,” you smiled at him as you put your hand on his.

He beamed back at you and kissed you on the head.

“How did he save you?” Nakia asked as she leaned in with interest.

“Well, the other ship had lifted me up higher than the tallest building-- like the way a mother whale does when its newborn calf needs to breathe? It rammed into me and destroyed the thrusters on my ship and just pushed me up and up through the air. Then it tilted slowly until I slid off.” As you spoke, you gestured with both hands, your left hand your ship and your right hand the offending one, and lowered you left hand slowly as you mentioned the ship's falling.

“That must have been a terrifying moment,” T’Challa said.

You nodded. “I’m not sure if his ship was also damaged or what, but it seemed like he did it slowly for effect. Oh, and he had managed to contact my ship’s comm system even after you destroyed it, Loki.”

Loki raised his eyebrows at you in surprise.

“So, he screamed at me for the full… I don’t know, five minutes or so, that he was lifting me up into the air.”

“I had no idea,” Loki admitted.

“What a jerk,” Thor added.

“Yeah… then he stopped and let me fall, and let me tell you, there is nothing more terrifying than feeling the floor go out from under you and knowing that you’re going to hit the ground and be crushed to smithereens from the impact.” You voice hitched for a moment on the last word though you tried to pass it off with a laugh.

You suddenly felt like a baby in a roomful of adults.

Wanda’s brow knit. “And that’s when you said to tell Loki you loved him.”

Loki looked at you.

“I honestly, completely, one hundred percent believed I was going to die.” You had to breathe for a moment to fight back the tears that wanted to happen because you hadn’t gotten to talk about it before now.

Loki inched his chair closer to you and took your hand in his, his attention entirely on you as he waited for you to get a hold on your emotions.

“I’m sorry.” You apologized, trying not to cry. “I’m sure I seem silly to you guys since you all probably ‘almost die’ all the time.”

“That doesn’t make it any less terrifying,” T’Challa said.

“I have nearly died on a mission by myself, alone. It is not something I would choose to live through again,” Nakia offered.

“If it makes you feel better, I cried when Asgard was destroyed,” Thor said, and everyone turned to look at him. “I had just lost my eye, my sister nearly killed me and all the other Asgardians, and a fire giant _had_ to be unleashed so I could stop her? You bet I cried.”

“He did. Valkyrie was… less than impressed,” Loki added.

“The first time I fought as an Avenger was Sokovia.” Wanda began. “My brother died so quickly, and I didn’t think I could go out and fight Ultron’s robots. Hawkeye told me that he sometimes felt like quitting when everything got all insane and he was running around thinking he might die the whole time. But… being a hero is continuing on because you know someone has to.”

Everyone nodded in silent reflection.

“I guess I’m not so weird then,” you said after a few moments.

“It takes some getting used to,” Wanda admitted.

“Shall we continue this conversation over drinks?” T’Challa asked. “We all seem done with our food.”

Everyone nodded and stood. Loki helped you pull out your chair and offered his arm again for the short walk to the small sitting room.

“You're like a dream from a Jane Austen novel,” you said quietly.

“I might have read Northanger Abbey… and then quickly read everything else she wrote when I discovered her writing was so charming.”

“When was this?”

“I kept it from you. I had hoped you would make a joke or a reference to her works one day so I could impress you with my knowledge.”

“Liar.”

“Not at all.”

The room you walked into had a large fireplace, unlit, as the day was quite warm.

Loki gestured towards it, “There's a fireplace at Rosings of the same size and with glazing that's worth over five thousand pounds.”

You turned to him. “You did read it.”

“If you want to form a two-person book club, I'm ready,” he laughed.

You smacked him playfully on the chest and continued your walk into the room.

 

* * *

 

“How did you save her?” Nakia asked of Loki as the three of you sat together.

“You know my ability to find invisible doors that I take from one place to another?”

She nodded and smiled. “Shuri has a few theories on how they work, you should tell her which one is correct.”

Loki laughed quietly. “And spoil all the mystery?”

Nakia laughed.

She really was pretty, but your initial bewilderment had worn off during dinner and you were now able to function like a normal human.

Whatever passed as a ‘normal human’ for you.

Loki continued. “When Peter had told me she was falling I immediately jumped through one hoping that there was another anywhere among the trajectory she was falling.” He put his hand on yours. “Fortunately there was, but I missed the first one due to trying to find a door I had never used prior. I got to the second one in time and pulled her through as the ship fell around her.”

The idea of him pulling you through in a split second as the ship continued to fall around you made you think of a puzzle in a platforming game. You were never very good at platformers. It was a good thing he was there.

“I took several doors back to the ground and held her as the ship fell mere yards away…” he squeezed your hand, “I was terrified I was going to lose her.”

You smiled.

Nakia nodded. “That does sound terrifying. Situations, where you have no control when everything goes wrong, are the worst kind.”

You nodded empathetically and you all chuckled.

T’Challa walked over. “Sorry to interrupt, but Thor wanted to hear about the Asgardians you've accepted into our Dora Milaje Initiative.”

“Of course.” Nakia stood, “Excuse me.”

You took Loki’s lead and smiled as she walked away.

“Are you still confused by her beauty?” He whispered.

“I think it was more of the shock of seeing someone _so_ pretty. She’s so statuesque, my brain almost can't comprehend it, but I can actually function now.”

He smiled. “I’m glad. I don’t know how long I would have been able to cover for you if you lost it again.”

You poked him in the side and he laughed.

“Loki,” Thor called from across the room and waved for him to come over.

“Do you mind?”

“Go ahead,” you smiled.

Loki stood and walked over to his brother, and you could faintly hear him admonish him from across the room.

Wanda made her way over and sat next to you. “Hey, I don’t think we really got to meet before the alien attack happened.”

“We didn’t. It’s nice to meet you.”

She smiled. “Might I ask how you and Loki met?”

“Oh, you want the whole story?” You laughed.

She laughed as well. “The short version maybe. I don’t think we have time now for the whole thing.”

So you told her a shortened version. Obviously, the parts that you left out were all the hours of anxiety and agonizing over if you were on the same level as him and if you were even doing the right thing by dating him in the first place. That was, until she asked:

“You don’t feel intimidated by him?”

And – if this was a thought you had on your own while you were alone in a room all by yourself – it would have caused an immediate emotional spiral and existential crisis. But you were in a room with others, and when you looked up at Loki who was currently laughing at a story Thor was telling, you couldn’t help but be soothed by his big smile and somewhat dorkish laugh.

You smiled. “You know what? I’ll be honest, I was never intimidated by him. I was intimidated by what he was – an alien, a prince, someone who’s been to planets other than his own – but I was never intimidated by his personality or anything like that. That his status in the world was so far above mine and that he was so much more interesting than me, that was what made me waver in my desire to be with him. I mean… when you’re a pauper dating a prince it makes you wonder what you could possibly have to offer. Especially when you feel you haven’t made much of yourself before meeting them.”

She nodded gently, “I understand your meaning.”

“Are you intimidated by dating someone who isn’t a human? Vision is an android, right?”

She smiled. “He is. And no, because: physically, he might not be a human, but mentally, he has more humanity than most people I’ve known.”

You smiled at her words.

“I think that… he and I were both treated as ‘others’ and we were both created by someone else – I didn’t have my powers until Hydra experimented on me – and… I think that can lead others to distrust us before they truly know us.”

“So you share that common bond.”

“Yes. Plus, he has always been kind to me. Kind is one of the most important things a person can be, I think.”

You looked over to Loki again who caught your eye and shot a questioning glance.

You smiled before answering, “I completely agree.” And then turned your attention fully to Wanda. “So why didn’t Vision come with us?”

“He wanted to help Tony and Bruce since Thor and Loki were coming here.”

“Ahh,” you nodded. You leaned closer and whispered, “Do you think every dinner will be so formal?”

“Oh, no. I visited along with Thor another time and they only did a formal dinner the first night, after that it’s more like a family dinner. I think they did it this time because Loki hasn’t been here yet and is technically still a prince of Asgard, and it’s like a ‘royalty meeting royalty’ thing.”

“Ahh.”

“We’re all friends so there’s no need to be formal afterward, I think it’s just a thing they have to do to be good hosts.”

“So, if we want a fancy dinner and a long table every night we should try and meet the Queen of England, is what you’re saying.”

She laughed. “Only if you want to have to yell for anyone else to hear you.”

You smiled. It was lucky then that Loki’s first visit was also your own, it was kind of cool to get dressed up and meet kings and queens. Especially ones that didn’t seem to get their wealth from destroying other peoples.

That Wakanda had gotten its wealth through cooperation between the various people _and_ managed to protect itself from European and Asian imperialists was completely wild. You almost couldn't wrap your head around it.

There was another thing you couldn't wrap your head around.

“Can I ask you a question about your powers?”

“If I can answer it, I will.”

“How do they work?”

She laughed. “You picked the one question I can’t answer.”

“Oh,” you frowned.

“Why do you ask?”

“Well, Loki was trying to teach me his powers, like his ability to pull things out of the aether and move through doors that connect different places and I couldn’t figure it out. I wanted to know how your powers work because maybe I could learn that instead.”

“Oh, I don’t know if that’s something I can even teach. My powers were gotten through a lot of tests – my brother and I weren’t even the first ones, just the first successes – and then the Hydra doctors tortured us into using them. I don’t know if I can describe it,” she held up a hand and let the bright red wispy tendrils of her magic dance on her fingertips. “It’s something between the automatic feeling of moving a limb and a fear response.”

“Wow… I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. Hydra should be sorry they gave them to me because they have no way of stopping me if I decide to hunt them all down,” she smiled. "And one day, I _will_ hunt them all down."

You nodded. “Don’t play with things you don’t know, I guess,” and laughed.

She returned the laugh. “At the very least, don’t give them to people who would rightfully hate you.”

You smiled. “Amen to that.”

“I’m sorry I can’t teach you though. I know that almost dying is terrifying, and I don’t blame you for wanting to find some way to keep yourself safe.”

“The thing is, I also want to help people. I helped the other people who were sexually harassed or assaulted by the guy who assaulted me, I helped my old company’s HR department get rid of a manager who was doing the wrong thing, and then I helped save people by flying the ship, but like… I want to keep helping people and I have no real social or financial power, no superpowers, I have nothing. I would say I’m back to square one, but I don’t even have a job now.”

Wanda nodded through your whole admission. “I understand. I truly wish I could help you.”

You smiled sadly. “Don’t worry about it.”

Loki walked over. “Hello, ladies. What are you talking about?”

“You,” you said. “All bad things.”

He laughed. “Is that so?”

Wanda looked at you and then nodded. “All of the bad things.”

“Oh,” he smiled wryly, “should I leave then?”

“No,” Wanda stood, “I wanted to ask Nakia something, you can take my seat.” She walked over to where Nakia was sitting next to T’Challa.

“Miss me?” Loki asked.

“Always.”

“Why were you looking at me before?”

“Wanda said that she thought ‘kind’ was the most important thing a person could be, and it made me think of you.”

“Why were you talking about kindness?”

“She said she liked Vision because they shared a common bond and because he was kind. She had asked me if I had felt intimidated by you.”

“Oh?”

You nodded.

“And had you?”

“By your being a prince or knowing much more than me, maybe. But not by you personally.”

He nodded.

“But you know the insecurities I’ve been wrestling with already.”

He nodded again. “And you know that I wish you didn’t have to feel that way.”

“And _you_ know we are at an impasse on the subject,” you gave him a quick kiss on the lips. “So let’s not talk about it anymore.”

“I've been told that it's bad to have unresolved issues in a relationship.”

“Yes, but how do you resolve an issue when you don’t know how to resolve it?”

He took your hand. “You make a fair point. I don’t want to argue with you, I just want you to be happy.”

“ _You_ make me happy. If that’s any consolation.”

“It is.”

“Maybe I’ll be able to figure it out one day, but that day is not today.”

Nakia and T’Challa walked over, causing you and Loki to stand.

“Y/N,” T’Challa began, “Wanda was just telling us that you wanted to help people. Did you mean in the way that the Avengers help them?”

“I…” you looked at Wanda who looked at you apologetically. “Yes. I mean, I would like to, but I don’t think I can.”

“Would you prefer an active, offensive role? Or a defensive role?” Nakia asked.

“I mean…” you looked to Loki and then to Thor who had also wandered over. “I suppose I’m not very experienced in fighting, so a defensive role might be best. Why?”

“I had the thought that maybe my sister might help you out. When Loki goes to the lab tomorrow to help her with the ship, you should accompany him. I’ll tell her of my idea, and you can talk to her about it,” T’Challa said.

“Oh, that would be great. Not being in the position of nearly dying would be so helpful.”

Loki smiled and took your hand.

You laughed, hoping you didn't offend them.

“Now,” T’Challa said, “It is growing late. I think it’s time we all retire for the night.”

Everyone quietly agreed and then T’Challa and Nakia walked arm and arm out of the room.

“Shall I escort you to your room, madam?” Thor asked Wanda jokingly.

“Yes, you may, good sir.”

“Wanda,” you called as they started to walk away. You let go of Loki’s hand and walked over to them.

“I hope you don’t think I was rude to tell Nakia what you told me.”

“I mean, a little. But thank you, it never would have occurred to me to ask.”

“You’re not mad?”

“Not at all,” you smiled.

Wanda smiled, and then she and Thor left the room.

“Well, my lady,” Loki said as he held an arm up, “shall I escort you to your room?”

You smiled and took his arm as you had earlier.

You were met at the door by the butler from earlier. “Do you remember the way back to your room, sir?”

Loki looked at you, asking if you did without uttering a word.

“I was enjoying the art and architecture but wasn’t paying attention to where we were going at all.”

Loki turned back to the butler, “If you would be so kind.”

The butler bowed and led you back to your room.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Leave a comment if you liked it! :D


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll be so excited once this is all done and I can go back to my normal upload schedule. But don't worry, work is calming down again so I'll have more time to myself soon.

Once back in your room, Loki closed the curtains as you began the art of taking your hair down. Your dress returned to its normal color. You took the necklace off so you could take the dress off and saw Loki looking at you from his place at the window.

“That necklace looks beautiful on you.”

You smiled as you watched him come up behind you in the mirror. He unzipped your dress slowly and ran a finger down the length of your spine. Now that you knew the passion his touch held, what was truly waiting for you if you let him touch you longer, your mind raced with options.

“Ideas?” You asked.

He watched your reflection in the mirror as you pushed the dress off your shoulders, pushed it down the length of your body and stepped out of it. He looked at your form as you now stood in your bra and underwear.

“You would look exquisite wearing the necklace and nothing else.”

You picked it up and turned to him, letting your gaze rest on the amber stones of the necklace, their cherry red shade like latent fire glittering in the dim lamplight of the room. You looked up at him innocently.

“Do you think so?”

He smiled and touched a finger to the tip of your chin, angling your face up towards his.

“I know so.”

You laughed quietly and handed him the necklace. You turned and lifted your hair so he could put it on you. Once he had, he deftly unhooked your bra and you pushed the straps off your shoulders, letting it fall to the floor like the former encumbrance it was. When you went to push your underwear down your legs, you felt him press his body against yours, his head on your shoulder. The heat of his body was enough to make you swoon, but you tried to be strong and not let on that his proximity affected you so much. He placed his hands on yours and pushed your underwear down to your knees, and you stepped out of them.

He viewed your now nude form in the mirror wearing nothing but the necklace and smiled.

“Turn around,” he whispered.

You did.

You didn't know what to do with your hands as he looked at you, taking in the very sight of you. You knit your fingers together at your hips and tried not to seem awkward. You weren’t doing a very good job.

“You really need to learn to relax, darling.”

You laughed, “I don't know the meaning of the word.”

“Are you uncomfortable?”

You laughed quietly. You were, a little, in truth. You knew you shouldn’t be – he had already seen you naked, been inside of you even – but this was only your second time together. ‘Half-truths are not full lies,’ as someone wise once said.

Then again, you might have just made that up.

“No. I just… feel so naked while you're so clothed. It’s uneven.”

He smiled, and in a blink, he was just as naked as you were. His supple muscles flexed under smooth skin as he mirrored your posture.

“Feel better?”

“It is equal now, yes.”

He smiled warmly as he drank you in. The cold, hard metal of the necklace a direct contrast to your warm skin and soft breasts, the ambers like barely contained flames decorating your skin. Your hair fell around your shoulders like a woman in a Waterhouse painting, soft and with the beautiful tumult of a waterfall. He took a step closer, and touched his fingers first to the skin of your stomach, tracing from your sternum, around your belly button, across the soft flesh between your hips, and back up. He raised his eyes and looked into yours.

“You have said so much about… if we should be together and wondering if I'm out of your league.”

You were quiet. You couldn't possibly fathom what he was about to say.

He paused and laughed at his own thought. “How has it not once crossed your mind that maybe I can't understand why you said yes when I asked you out?”

Well you certainly didn’t fathom that. “What?”

“I figured you had to have known who I was when I first asked you to dinner. I thought that you, who seemed to be a New Yorker, must hate the very sight of me and would never say yes, but you did. And then I got nervous and lied to you like an idiot because you didn't know who I was and I didn't want you to hate me… but even after I told you the truth you still wanted to see me.”

“Hooray for my nihilism and apathy, I suppose?” You thought for a moment. “Or my complete stupidity.”

He shook his head. “You don’t understand why I would want to be with you, well I don't understand how you, in all your loveliness and sweetness, would want to be with me.”

You tried not to let on that his admission had affected you that much.

“I look at you,” he said as he trailed a finger along your jawline, “and I wonder how you weren't taken by a better man than I. One who deserved your sweetness and love from the beginning, one who would never think of doing the things I’ve done. One who never had to reform.”

“We aren't all angels,” you said. “Not even gods.”

He took your hands in his. “If you are an angel then I am the most wretched of sinners. I want nothing more than to be burned by the light of your love and kindness until, in ashes, I’m nothing but a pure soul.”

You weren't sure what emotion it was that was welling up in your chest, his ardor radiating through his touch like a fire about to ignite.

“That sounds like some… worship of old gods one finds in an ancient text.”

“If you were a goddess, I would spend my life worshipping you. I would sacrifice my own blood.”

“What is bringing out this intensity?” You laughed nervously.

He smiled and touched his forehead to yours. “Seeing you like this. Like a goddess of the ancient world decorated in gems befitting of her station.”

“Naked with a necklace on?”

“Naked with a necklace on,” he laughed.

You smiled.

His forehead still against yours, he shut his eyes for a moment and inhaled deeply. You weren’t sure what to do, he let go of your hands and his fingers now rested gently on either side of your neck, partly touching your skin and partly touching the gems in the necklace. Your fingertips held gently onto the skin at his elbows. Your bodies weren’t touching and the space between your hips was excruciating. All at once it was the most vast distance in the cosmos and the closest, most negligible amount of space you’ve ever encountered. You waited, wanting his body pressed against yours, for _whatever_ he seemed to be deciding on. He inhaled again and opened his eyes with a smile as he pulled back.

“Let me worship you.”

He was staring into your eyes and yours were similarly locked on his, captured by the gaze of his icy blue irises. Not knowing what to do, wondering what he meant by ‘worship,’ you gave a small nod. As soon as you had, his mouth was on yours in a fiery effusion of feeling, his lips searing yours with their barely restrained heat.

His hands dropped from your face to your waist as he took a moment to pull you into a hug, squeezing you tightly against him. He kissed your neck and trailed warm kisses down to your collarbone before finding one of your nipples and gently but purposefully pulling it into his mouth and flitting around it with his tongue. As his took his mouth away and the now wet skin was exposed to the cool air, he blew on it, making it raise up even more before making his way over to your other breast and doing the same.

He kissed his way down your stomach slowly, his lurching speed growing almost annoying as he inched closer to his goal. His hot breath exhaled across your skin and you reflexively let your hands rest atop his head as he knelt before you. It took all of your strength not to push him down by the shoulders in an effort to hurry him on. As he got closer, he moved slower and fanned his kisses out over a wider area, making you whimper from the anticipation. The very idea that he was so close yet so far made the heat rise to your cheeks, made you exhale deeply, and started the sublime tightening coil in the lowest part of your belly as your skin called out to him. You whined in frustration.

He looked up with an admonishing glance.

You huffed lazily at this rebuff.

He paused, waiting for you to stop your protest as you played with his hair.

He smiled. “Patience, sweet goddess. You will find out how fervent my worship is.” He dipped his head back down and continued his trail of kisses, grasping both of cheeks of your rump in his large hands and squeezing your flesh as he pushed you closer to him.

As his mouth inched closer to its destination you felt your knees go weak, and you wavered in your ability to stand and be steady under his roving touch.

He felt you shift against him as your knees nearly buckled a second time and he pulled away, mischievous smile on his face. “I haven't _done_ anything yet.”

“You've done plenty already,” you laughed breathlessly.

“Do you want me to stop?”

“No.”

He stood, once more towering over you. You felt small but safe, protected. The look in his eyes was gentle, and filled with warmth.

“Never.”

He scooped you up like you were much smaller than you were and laid you out on the bed and started over. Now the frustration of his slow speed was doubled in your mind as he dutifully retraced his steps, and once he had gotten below your waist your fingers were already tangled in his hair as it took every ounce of your being not to crumble in on yourself with anticipation and try and force him to do what you already knew he was going to do.

The _tease._

He took a moment to look up at you; your breasts heaving from the heavy breaths you took as he touched you, your eyes lidded, how you practically squirmed under his gaze as you ached for him to continue.

You could see in his eyes that you were beautiful to him, sprawled out as you were, legs open for him. His expression hungry and wanting.

“How much do you want me?” He asked.

“I thought _you_ were worshiping _me_ ,” you pointed out playfully.

He smiled darkly. “Every deity is hungry for the worship of their followers. Why do you think we wanted them so badly?”

You returned the smile. “Is that what I am to you? A fangirl? A worshiper?”

“No,” emotion bubbled fervently behind his clear blue eyes, “You are _so_ much more.”

You continued to smile and said nothing.

He laid his head against your stomach for a moment and thought. “You are… focus. Meaning. Purpose. Life’s blood. Happiness. The warmth of understanding and compassion. The feeling of home.”

Such description of yourself was not something you had ever been privy to hearing before. None of your previous boyfriends had ever had such feelings for you, and if they did, they certainly didn’t say it _aloud_. Where you could _hear it_. You felt like you were reading the poetry of some Romantic poet; Shelly, Mary in particular, words filled with such emotion that most people found them over-dramatic but you found…

To you, his words had the right amount of feeling. A correct amount. The amount of feeling one should feel if they proclaim themself in love with someone. What is the point of proclaiming love without verbalizing that love as well? What was language and writing created for, if not that?

(For complaining about bad shipments of copper, but that’s besides the point.)

Why should love not result in not just the dripping of loins, but in the dripping of words from mouths as well? Why should the common man – or ‘gods’ in this case – not give verbal effusion to their feelings as the great poets once did? As the modern greats continue to do? Maybe you had read one too many poems in your teenaged years. Being a teenaged goth was truly perilous.

You couldn’t help but let your eyes well up a little and inhaled sharply as you tried to wipe the beginnings of tears away.

“I’m sorry, was that wrong?” He asked, as he clambered over you, ready to console you.

You shook your head. “No. It was perfect.”

“Then why are you crying?” He smiled a smile of mixed humor and pity.

“I wasn’t expecting it,” you laughed, “not even from a god.”

He smiled warmly. “Well I don’t know what you were anticipating, not expecting me to tell you how I feel?”

You laughed again.

“Are you all right?”

You inhaled, successfully willing the tears away. “Yes.” You laughed at yourself. “Overwhelmed.”

He chuckled softly and leaned over, kissing you. “I haven’t even told you my deepest of feelings. That I wish Asgard had never been destroyed so I could show it to you. That I wish the Bifrost was fixed so I could take you anywhere in the nine realms. I love you. I want to give you everything.”

You laughed softly as you smoothed his hair back.

He kissed you again and crawled down the length of your form, resuming his place. He kissed the spot under your belly button, slowly for a moment, before finally dipping his head between your legs, the swiftness surprising you as you had readied yourself for more torture.

He closed his mouth around the bundle of nerves at the apex of your legs, his tongue flicking and rolling around. Your back arched and your fingers resumed their former spot, tangled in his hair as you tried, and probably failed, to help him by keeping his hair out of his face. It was all you could do to not let your fingers curl into fists around his raven locks and pull his hair, causing him pain.

Pain that – as a sudden, dull idea in the back of your head tried to gain the attention of your conscious self so it could tell you – he might actually _like_.

You tried to shake the thought from the penumbra of your mind. You never asked, and he never said, but by god, _you wanted to_.

His mouth, warm and wet like hot, viscous liquid, roamed over your clit and the folds of flesh between your legs like he was conquering new land. You suddenly remembered that he wasn’t born yet when his adoptive father had conquered the cosmos, and were glad that the only real estate he seemed eager to claim was your own self. You had to stifle a laugh at that internal joke, and he seemed to not notice. He kissed and sucked at your labia and clitoris like he was praising you, not a malicious thought in his mind.

It suddenly dawned on you what he had meant when he used the word ‘worship.’ He wanted to give himself over to you as the instrument of your pleasure with no other desire other than making you feel good. No other desire than making you come.

And you felt like you might, as he pushed two of his fingers into you, and the friction and stroking of the spongy gland inside your vagina made you wonder if you might burst into pure energy, a nouveau big bang, as you generated new stars, your ecstatic bliss recreating the cosmos.

You felt your insides clench as he quickened both the fervor of his tongue and the pace of his fingers, and next thing you knew, your hands were balled into fists around his hair as you came, holding his mouth fast between your legs. You shuddered, reality suddenly hitting you like a sledgehammer as he pulled away and wiped his mouth.

“There's more ways to worship than just prayer.”

You laughed hoarsely, not knowing what to say.

He smiled.

“Ridiculous.”

“Who, me?”

You nodded.

“I'm ridiculous.” He stated. A question, no doubt, but said with a sense of false belligerence in his voice. “I'm ridiculous,” he repeated.

You knew something was about to happen. “Mhm,” you nodded innocently.

“Oh, _I'm_ ridiculous,” he emphasized as he climbed over you, parting your legs and kissing your lips, his mouth hitting yours in an fake ‘angry sex’ kind of way that made you laugh into his mouth..

You nodded again, giggling.

As he smiled, he lined the head of his cock up with your entrance as he whispered again, “ _I'm ridiculous_.”

You meant to laugh and giggle coyly but found yourself unable to as he slid into you, his girth stretching you out in the most delicious way. His smile was devious and dirty, delighting in your inability to respond.

“This isn't a very worshipful position,” you breathed.

He chuckled. “is it not?”

“Most men might say it isn't.”

“I get to please you, I get to look at you, I get to watch your face change as I please you.”

“‘Direction Action Worship’?” You snorted.

He looked at you, questioning.

“As in, someone could pray and immediately see that their prayers have paid off.”

“See? You do understand,” he kissed you and thrust into you.

The slow climb and ebb of being brought to the edge only to have yourself pulled away was excruciating as Loki worked on you, kissing you, letting his hands roam over your body as he pushed into you over and over. His hands on your breasts, his hands on your hips as he pulled you closer to him. He lifted your legs over his shoulders and kissed your calves as his hips bucked into you, and you tried not to cry out from the bliss of it all.

As he leaned over you, you saw his eyes had reddened again. You, love-drunk, reached out to him and he obliged by leaning over you.

“Yes?”

You held his face and his pace slowed.

“Your eyes have gone red.”

He stopped. “Have they?”

“Yeah. It happened last time too.”

He thought for a moment. “Does that scare you?”

“No.”

He smiled. “Really?”

“I don’t see why it should.”

He kissed you. “I love that you have no fear over what I am,” _kiss_ , “The one who knows my true self,” _kiss_. He looked up again, “If this were ancient times and you lived then, you would be my priestess.”

You smiled, not exactly knowing what to make if the statement. “Then maybe I should be the one to worship you.”

He raised an eyebrow. “How so?”

You weren’t sure exactly how you did it, but you managed to roll him over in one swift movement before he could figure out what was going on. And, he was still inside you as you did.

You had to hand it to yourself, you could be pretty damn _smooth_ when you wanted to be.

Too bad there was a waiting period of six to eight weeks before the next Smooth Move.

“Wow,” he commented as he brushed his hair out of his face, “I didn’t expect that.”

“Yeah, me neither.” You laughed. “But, how can I be your priestess if I’m the one being worshiped? Hm?”

He smiled wolfishly. “Am I the one being worshipped, now?”

You smiled coyly, lifting yourself off of him and lowering yourself back down with excruciating slowness. “I don’t know… are you?”

“I don’t know, I think with you on top like that you’re might just be using me for your own pleasure.”

You repeated the motion and watched his features for a moment as he enjoyed the sensation. “Would you like that?”

He exhaled languidly, “Maybe.”

The corner of your mouth curled into a nearly imperceptible smile, but he caught it and smiled back as you lifted yourself up again.

He continued to smile, to pretend that he was in control of the situation, but as you took more of him into yourself his façade eroded, falling away into an expression of pure pleasure. His eyes fluttered closed as his hands slid up your thighs and he grasped your hips trying to hold you fast to him.

“Uh uh,” you said and pulled his hands off. You held them over his head and pressed them into the bed with one hand.

“Do you really think I can’t get out of that?” He laughed.

“I think you’ll have the good sense to leave them there even if you can,” you said as you ground your hips onto him in a circular motion.

His mouth opened, a small gasp turned to a low groan and he finally said, “Good point.”

You kissed him. He could have easily pulled his hands up from the bed and flipped the two of you back over, but he didn’t. You couldn’t tell if he was too into the idea of letting you be in charge or if he just enjoyed you being on top… some dark part of your brain lazily wondered if he enjoyed being used every once in a while. Then it wondered if he would enjoy letting you use him. You stomped that part of your brain down and decided that you’d let Future You deal with it.

Poor future you had to deal with all the bullshit.

Present you, however, was enjoying her boyfriends’ huge cock, wrecking herself on it. It was hard not to when he was so big that any amount of sex with him was ‘all up in the guts,’ not that you were complaining.

And he wasn’t complaining either, hands still under yours as you rocked your hips onto him, sometimes slow and sometimes fast, depending on how much you felt like torturing him. Or yourself.

Finally, after however many minutes of you bringing the both of you close to the point of climax only to back off suddenly into what felt like a burning anticipation, he pulled one hand out from under yours.

It was apparent how much of your holding his wrists down was _not_ you.

Before you could ask what he was doing, attempt to make some dirty joke or coy observation, his thumb was on your clit, working it with a quick furiousness that you’d only ever known from yourself in the dark of night when you wanted to come so you could go to sleep.

What? We’ve all done it. _No shame._

Any strength you had holding his other hand down buckled, and his other hand moved to your hips to help you ride him.

“As much as I love the feeling of you teasing me, if I don’t come now, I’m going to die.”

“Dramatic,” was the only thing you could say in between gasps.

“Maybe. But I know you want to as well. You’ve not been very good at hiding it.”

God _damn_ it. He was too good at reading you. Annoyingly observant, even. You did kind of like it, though. It was nice not to have to spell things out.

“And now, my priestess,” he paused as his one hand kept the rhythm of your hips slamming into his and the other kept the rhythm he had built up on your clit – maddening, was how you would have described it – ‘I hope you would grace me with the honor’ he pulled you close to him, his thumb still working on your clit as he slammed his hips into you from below, “of cumming all over my cock.”

Was it the words? Was it his voice and his gorgeous accent? Was it how he was holding you? What his fingers were doing? His fingers laced through your hair as he held you close to him? His cock?

Yes.

_Yes to all of it._

Next thing you knew you were experiencing the kind of earth-shattering orgasm that you seemed to rarely encounter in your life, at least until now. You were practically screaming before you bit down into his shoulder to stop, changing to a low, agonized grunt, the kind of sound you didn’t know you could make. You could feel your channel spasming around his cock like it wanted all of him, to pull him in further. Your eyes were squeezed so tightly you thought you saw stars and you dug your nails into his sides as if you were holding on for dear life.

You heard him grunt under you and, thinking you had hurt him, pulled away. “Sorry, sorry,” you apologized.

“No,” he breathed out quickly in a laugh. “I think I liked having you sink your teeth into me.”

You laughed, out of breath, and tried to climb off of him. Your shakey limbs did you no credit as he sat up and helped you. You sat next to him.

“You like a newborn deer,” he laughed.

You laughed back. “Bambi got fucked.”

“I thought Bambi was a boy?” He asked.

You looked at him. You weren’t sure. Of all the topics you could have planned to think about right after orgasm, it probably wouldn’t have been Bambi.

He looked at you. Maybe he was sure, but he didn’t say.

You stared at him silently before laughing. “I don’t know.”

He laughed as well.

You took off the necklace and laid down next to him. “I always thought Bambi was a girl. The eyes.”

“Thumper was a boy, he had huge eyes.”

“True.”

“The girl rabbit is only a girl because she has ‘girly’ coloring.”

“They didn’t put a bow on her?”

“No they gave her like a…” he gestured to his chest.

“Rabbit tits?”

He laughed. “They might as well have.”

You laughed and sighed.

“Let’s get under the blanket before we fall asleep.”

“Mhm,” you agreed as, sleepily, you clambered under the comforter and snuggled down under the sheets.

“You’re just all ready for bed, aren’t you?”

“That just… took it out of me.”

“You came just that hard, huh?”

You smacked his chest playfully. “What? Would you rather I didn’t and still had all the energy?”

He laughed in an almost rueful way. “Darling, I wouldn’t sleep until you had come so many times you were ready to pass out.”

“Looks like I’m in for a hard relationship.”

“ _Hard_?” He echoed.

“Ugh. Poor choice of words.” You rolled over in your shame.

He laughed and turned the lights off before climbing back into the bed. He pulled you in to him, nuzzling the back of your neck before resting his chin on your shoulder. You held onto one of his hands like it was a teddy bear and closed your eyes, a big smile on your face.

“Can I ask you something?” He whispered.

“Of course.”

He was quiet for a few moments, thinking. “Does it scare you at all to know I’m not Asgardian? My people are giants who rule over a frozen wasteland… that doesn’t terrify you?”

“Well… it explains your dick—”

He laughed so hard he started coughing and did so right into your ear. “Sorry, sorry.”

You laughed quietly.

“Sorry,” he kissed your ear as an apology.

“I’ll never play the piano again,” you joked.

He giggled. It was adorable.

“I mean, are you a giant frost giant who might murder me on the battlefield? No. Do I think it would be hot that you could be like nine feet tall and murder me with your dick? Maybe. Do I wish you were nine feet tall? I mean, except for the one time you could dick-murder me before I die, there isn’t a lot else going for that.”

He laughed again, burying his head between your neck and the pillow, “High shelves—” he coughed out before laughing again.

“Sure, you’d be able to reach all the highest shelves, but at what cost? At the cost of my health? No, sir!”

He continued laughing. After a few moments he calmed down and you were able to be serious.

“No. Your eyes going red during sex doesn’t scare me.”

He ‘Hmm’d for a moment before he spoke. “I think… I think it means that you make me lose control that little bit. I used to think that looking like an Asgardian was magic that my adopted parents had put onto me to hide me, but maybe it was partly my own belief that keeps it there.”

“The ‘Power of Suggestion?’” You asked.

You felt him nod against your skin. “And maybe sex… orgasms in particular… they make my brain…“ He trailed off as he though.

“’Go all stupid?’”

“I mean, yeah. I don’t know how to describe it. It’s just… feeling, not so much thinking.”

“Nah, that makes sense.”

The two of you were quiet for a few moments, and you thought he might have already fallen asleep.

“Loki?”

“Yeah?”

“It doesn’t scare me. You don’t scare me. I think… if there’s one person I’m not scared of in this world, it’s you.”

You heard him inhale for a moment before he hugged you close, his arms squeezing you and his face pressed up against your neck and the back of your head. He held you tightly for a few moments before resuming his previous position of ‘gentle hug.’ “I’m glad. I’m really glad.”

You thought you might have heard tears in his voice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Leave a comment if you liked it! :)


	16. Chapter 16

What were the looks of the day?

Loki wore a black blazer with a forest green paisley shirt unbuttoned at the top. You began to realize that this was about as casual as he got when he was with people aside from you. After all, he had to maintain his hold on his self-appointed title of ‘The Most Fashionable Person in the Room.’ A worthy title if there ever was on.

As for you: Pattern mixing? Yes. Expensive sweater and shoes with cheap pants? Yes. _Who gives a shit_. Clothes are clothes in the end. But… sometimes those clothes were Gucci. Did you need that $2,000 sweater; rainbow striped with the face of a furious feline and arboreal appliques? Well, no, no one _needs_ anything that expensive, this was luxury. Were you _very_ bougie because you owned it? Yes. _Hell yes_. Did you care?

Well... maybe a little.

But you very flexible because you did some mental gymnastics and justified it... because it was something purchased when Loki took you on a shopping spree during the court proceedings.

Like personal shoppers – spies, even – you went in disguise. You shopped till you dropped and – since he was the only one out of you who was loaded one at the time – he paid for everything.

“I always love a little retail therapy,” he said as the two of you walked into your third store of the day, a whirlwind of trying on outfits, being served champagne dressing rooms, pinging registers, and mile-long receipts. It was like a chick flick, but _both_ of you were walking around the city with multiple shopping bags talking excitedly about your hauls and complaining about how much your feet hurt.

He asked you why you had to own that sweater in particular, when it didn’t seem to match a single other thing in your wardrobe.

“Well, the actor Jeff Goldblum wore it for a photoshoot and it was just so wild that I had to have it.”

“Who?”

You showed him a picture of the man in question wearing the sweater in question from the photoshoot in question.

Loki was taken aback. “Huh.”

“What?”

“He um… looks like someone I knew once.”

“Really? Who?”

“The leader of Sakaar I had told you about? The Grandmaster. He looked exactly like him.”

You looked at the picture of Jeff wearing the sweater and smiling as if someone had said something hilarious. “Huh. That’s so weird.”

“Yeah. I uh… I slept with him.”

“ _Really_?”

Loki laughed quietly and nodded. “I kind of slept my way to the top on Sakaar. Much easier than having to fight in the gladiatorial ring, as my brother did.”

You covered your mouth as you hissed with laughter.

“Do you think that’s him?”

Then a long conversation transpired in which you had to practically _convince_ Loki that Jeff was not The Grandmaster and had been acting since the 80s. Why would a probably eternal being want to come to your backwater of a planet anyway? Jeff was most likely a human. Loki proclaimed that he would never be able to watch any of his movies.

“Because of what he did to you in bed?” You joked.

“Because he was a tyrant…”

He tried to walk away, and you watched him with a knowing glance until he finally felt your eyes on him and turned back around to look at you.

“Fine. He was a devil in bed as well. I don’t regret it, but I couldn’t possibly watch one of Mr. Goldblum’s movies as a result. The real Grandmaster kept slaves.”

Back to your outfit.

You wore the wildly colorful sweater, a pair of plaid, high waisted, paper bag-style pants, and another Gucci item, a pair of leather ankle boots embroidered with bees and stars. You were working through some things when you went shopping, and spending a few thousand dollars seemed like a good idea at the time. Everyone is allowed to make economical mistakes.

Especially when the money they’re spending isn’t their own.

Did you regret it? _Absolutely not._

Your look was _really_ topped off with: Space Buns. You had loved them since they became the hip thing a few years ago… because of Coachella, not that you had ever been. (And why would you go? It was a music festival filled with drugs and debauchery, yet run by a man who donated to ant-drug, anti-LGBT politicians? Even _your_ love of irony couldn’t withstand the hypocrisy of it all.) You could never wear the puffy, anime-like buns to work for fear of being made fun of, or even worse, not being taken seriously. But now you didn’t have to worry, because _you didn’t have a job._

You tried not to let that fact get to you as the puritanically descended capitalist society you grew up in _still_ had you at least partially convinced that you were a bad person when you weren’t working yourself until your immune system became so weak that a cold would have you laid up for almost a week. Not that anyone you worked with actually took time off when they were sick.

Regardless.

Last night, you had watched several YouTube videos about how to do them properly and were surprised to learn that people didn’t just have magically perfect hair and that at least a little backcombing was required for volume. That morning, you woke up, determined to add them to your repertoire of looks.

You were in love, they were amazing.

Less so were the shitty baby hairs that were sticking out in your hairline, crappy little piece of shit hairs that absolutely refused to grow out. Little piece of shit fucking _infant hairs_. You looked at them in the nearest reflective surface you could find, having been bothered with the very knowledge that they even _existed_ all day.

“Fucking little shitty fucking baby hair bullshit.” You muttered as you tried over and over to smooth them into the rest of your hair so they would stop sticking out.

Loki watched you with a strange sort of concern.

“Who is cursing up a storm in my lab?” a young woman asked as she walked into the room.

“Shuri, hello.” Loki smiled. “I’d like to personally introduce you to my girlfriend, Y/N.”

You smiled and waved, embarrassed.

“No need to look embarrassed, I was just wondering who was cursing since I wasn't here to do it.”

You laughed softly.

“I’m here to help you look at the ship and T’Challa suggested last night that maybe you could make her a sort of defensive suit so she could be an honorary Avenger?”

“He mentioned it to me last night. I have a few ideas.”

“Excellent. So, where’s the ship?”

You spent a little time being bored as they looked over certain areas of the ship, until Shuri started asking you questions about flying it. You helped as best as you could, since it was the same ship as the one you had flown.

“How did it handle?” She asked.

“It’s the only ship I’ve ever flown so I’m not sure... ‘Okay’ I guess?”

Then it was back to being bored again as Loki and Shuri made a few attempts at trying to decipher the language on the controls. You resigned yourself to sitting on one of the stools by the lab bench and scrolled through Tumblr hoping for some good memes.

Finally, after scrolling so far that you found things you had already seen before, Loki and Shuri walked over.

“Hi, Bored, I’m Loki,” he said as he wiped some grease from his hands.

“I didn’t even-- That thing has a combustion engine?” You asked, confused.

He shook his head, “Some of the moving parts have some kind of lubricant on them and of course it got on me.”

“Should you have that tested just in case?”

“Do you think it’s an alien lifeform?” His eyes sparkled as he waved his hands near your face like a six-year-old boy does when he realizes he can gross out a girl.

 “Listen, I’ve seen Prometheus.” You pushed him away by the wrists. “Stop it, you absolute child.”

He laughed his dorkish laugh and kissed you on the head before going back to cleaning his hands.

Shuri laughed at the two of you and then sighed. “Their tech looks cool from what I can tell, but we’re still no closer to figuring out where it’s come from. If I can get into the onboard computer then maybe we can find some star charts or something. I’d need an astrophysicist’s help though.”

“I know one, well, Thor knows one. You can ask him to get in touch with him but just let me know when he’s in the lab.”

“Why?” You asked.

“I uh… When I was brainwashed, I was horrible to him and don’t want to upset him.”

It dawned on you – from the long life story he told you at the picnic – who he meant. “Ohhh… okay.”

He nodded.

Shuri was already calling her brother with her kimoyo bracelet, and asking him to ask Thor if he could call his astrophysicist friend. “And I think maybe we should give the Asgardians bracelets for their duration here. I hate playing tag.”

“I have a phone now,” Loki piped up.

She hung up. “Since when?”

“Since I realized I needed one to call a human and ask her out on a date,” he looked at you slyly.

You blushed and smiled back.

“Didn’t your brother date an earthling before I met either of you? Why doesn’t he have a phone?”

“I really don’t know. He got his own when I got mine but has apparently already fried it.”

“What?”

“Tony gave him one and it shorted out the first time he called down lighting during a battle.”

Shuri sighed. “That does make it more difficult. I think I might be able to design him something better than Tony could give him but shielding from all that electricity would be difficult.”

“I’m sure you could it,” you offered, “you invented all of this.”

“Well…” she said humbly, “not _all_ of it. I am nothing if not standing on the shoulders of giants. But I did invent and improve quite a lot. Here, give me both your numbers. At least maybe I can get Thor through one of you.”

Shuri took both your phone numbers down into her bracelet. “I’ll call you both so you have my number.”

Both your phones rang and you looked at yours to see that instead of saying ‘Unknown Number’ it said ‘Tha Princess’ followed by a crown emoji, a purple heart emoji, and a kiss emoji.

“How did you do that?” You asked.

She laughed. “I coded it that way.”

You saved her number, then showed Loki how to save a number because he had already forgotten, and put your phone back in your pocket. “That’s amazing.”

“I always feel… what’s the point of technology if it doesn’t make people’s lives better?”

Loki went to put his phone in his extra-dimensional ‘pocket’ but looked back at it for the time. “We were looking at the ship for two hours? I have to meet Thor. We’re going to visit the Asgardians who moved here and see how they’re doing. Are you good here?” He asked you.

You looked as Shuri with a questioning glance.

“You can stay here. I have some stuff you can help out with,” she smiled.

You nodded.

“Okay,” he kissed you on the head, “have fun, ladies. I’ll see you later.”

He ran up the spiral ramp and was gone.

You looked at Shuri awkwardly. “Um, so what are we doing?”

“I have some data from the ship I want to look at before I start on trying to get into the computer, but I thought we could hang out since I was too busy for the dinner yesterday.”

“Oh, okay.”

She walked over to one of the larger screens in the lab and tapped it, and what looked like a very futuristic Excel spreadsheet opened. She patted the stool next to her and smiled, “Come sit.”

You walked over and sat, looking at the data and not understanding a single pixel of it.

“I like your sense of style, by the way.”

“Oh, thank you.”

“Your boyfriend and my brother need to get a hold of Thor and get him wearing some real clothes,” she clicked her tongue, “that boy needs to dress like a man.”

You laughed.

You also noticed she had used the phrase ‘your boyfriend’ when she referred to Loki. How weird, you were so sure that everyone referred to you as ‘his girlfriend’ because they knew him first and he was the famous one. She was the first one to do the opposite.

You smiled. “I think Thor is primarily concerned with being comfortable. If we put him in something nice, he might tear it off like when you put a costume on a cat.”

“Or lay down and do nothing like an idiot,” Shuri laughed. “Also like a cat.”

You smiled, “Yes.” You sat quietly for a few moments before you decided to ask, “Do you need a lab assistant?”

“What kind of lab did you work in?”

“…I didn’t. I was an office worker. I meant like, I can do menial lab tasks or clean or something. Since I’m not a scientist.”

“Well, I have plenty of lab assistants and they all are trained in their particular fields.”

You nodded.

“So you weren’t in science at all?”

“Uh, no,” you said with a laugh. “I was never really good at anything.”

“Why did you laugh?”

“I don’t know… self-deprecation I guess.”

“If you put yourself down like that, you'll never _become_ good at anything.”

“That's… annoyingly true. You're right.”

Shuri nodded knowingly and went back to her work. This allowed you time to stew in your own thoughts.

“How did you get to be so smart?” You chuckled.

She shrugged. “Good parenting, they always told me I should strive to be the best version of myself. And the best scientists in the world tutored me. I won’t pretend that being a princess didn’t afford me some advantages, but many children here who show aptitude in the sciences are encouraged to follow their passion. And they have the resources to do so.”

“Wow… You and your people are so lucky. I grew up in a school system where I got yelled at for reading too much as a kid.”

She looked pained. “I'm sorry. No child deserves to be told that their eagerness to learn is a bad thing.”

You nodded.

“Did you go to college?”

“I did, actually. I have a Masters.”

“I thought you said you weren’t good at anything?”

“Well… I was good at that I guess.”

She smiled slyly, as if she didn’t believe you. “In what?”

You figured you had to answer her no matter how embarrassing it might be. “Norse Mythology.”

She looked at you with wide eyes before gasping. “ _Is that why you’re dating Loki_?”

You laughed and almost fell out of your seat. “I don’t know what I thought was going to happen, but it wasn’t that reaction.”

“Seriously though, is that why?”

“No. No. He has no idea.” You wiped a tear from your eye, “I didn’t tell him when he asked me what I did my Masters in.”

“Oh, I thought maybe you were a fan of his, prior…”

“No, _he_ asked _me_ out.”

“Ahh,” she said and turned the screen off.

“I actually, uh, I didn’t know who he was when I first met him.”

“What? How? I was told you were from New York City!”

“I am,” you laughed again at her indignance, “I was on vacation in Peru when it happened and in the middle of nowhere. By the time I went back it was like… there was rubble and I knew something happened, but the news was filled with shitty pundits all saying we should build a wall between us and _space_ so I just sort of tuned it out… and then the millennial apathy took over and I sort of forgot about it.”

“Wow.”

“Yeah, I have uh… a weird sense of time and I tend to not pay attention to ‘important’ things. I don’t know why.”

She nodded. “Did he tell you anything that’s different than the ancient Norse myths?”

“Um, only all of it!” You said indignantly. “No, but really, it’s like they’re the ancient Norse gods in name only. Myth Loki was half Jotun and half Aesir—” Shuri looked like she didn’t know what either of those words meant. “Sorry, the Jotuns were basically like another family of godlike beings though later they were written to be giants – frost giants, fire giants, whatever – and the Aesir were like… gods of civilization while the Jotuns were gods of the disorderly and chaos and everything outside civilization, and then there’s the Vanir, gods of nature.”

She nodded, clearly interested.

“So in Norse mythology, which I spent years studying, Loki is half Aesir and half Jotun, his mother was the goddess Laufey and his father was never named. Then I meet a guy who calls himself a god, who is from a race who _used_ to interact with human beings until they had to cut off contact because literal frost giants were trying to overthrow their rule – his name was Loki and he is all Jotun –  ‘Jotun’ _only_ means ‘frost giant’ and his father is the one named Laufey. It has been bugging me for _weeks_ ,” you ended somewhat… angrily? More like having your world turned on its head in a scholarly sense and feeling like you can’t say anything about your frustrations to the person who was closest to you had really gotten to you.

Shuri almost fell off her stool, and held onto you as she laughed. “I like you, Y/N! That is _exactly_ the kind of thing I would agonize about if I had that knowledge.”

You smiled. “Well, at least one of us is having a good time.”

“Are you going to tell him about that?”

“I mean… at some point. I guess I can’t feel like a failure about my degree anymore since I don’t even have a job anymore.”

“Why not?”

You rolled your eyes. “A couple times a year my company would have a gala at a museum and our manager would ask a few of us to go and mingle with the clients and just kind of be like spies and ask if they liked the company and whatever. I was asked to go to the last one and this guy physically assaulted me and basically implied that I was there to fuck a rich dude and social climb in the worst way. Luckly, Loki showed up and stopped him. I was…” you trailed off as she looked at you, eyebrows knit in concern, “ _completely_ terrified.”

“I’m so sorry. Did Loki hurt him?”

“Not physically. He did help me sue him into oblivion though. I ended up with a bunch of money that I then used to help the _other_ people he hurt so they could get justice as well.”

She smiled. “Well that’s good. Fuck the assaulters and would-be rapists of the world. Someone needs to stick it to them.”

“Yeah, I’m hoping it helps them. It turned out that a lot of them were servants or waitstaff at places he would stay or eat at.”

“Preying on the weakest,” Shuri shook her head. “Gah. I’ve been learning about America more since Wakanda has joined the global stage, and you guys have a lot of problems.”

You nodded. “ _Yeah._ ”

“Like, how do women not get paid the same as men, even? That’s insane.”

“Blame Phyllis Schlafly. Feminists tried in the 70s and she shut them down.”

“That is _so_ the opposite of ‘women helping women.’”

“She was a traitor, man. Running around reaping all the benefits of first and second wave feminism while she was actively campaigning against making thousands, maybe millions, of womens’ lives better. May she _rot_.”

“She’s dead?”

“Yeah, she died a few years ago.”

“Good.”

You both sat there, heated, for a few moments before Shuri spoke again.

“Salt Mates,” she chuckled.

“Because we’re salty about the same thing?”

“Yeah.”

You smiled.

“So… did you have a dissertation for your degree?”

“Yes, I did.”

“What was it?”

“‘Weaving and the Woman: Textiles and Destiny.’ It was about the nature of weaving in myth and how it was related to magic in the ancient Norse world, and how we describe the universe as a fabric in science.”

“Interesting.”

“Many ancient cultures had goddesses who were related to both weaving and destiny, the Greeks, the Egyptians, the Norse.”

“That’s really interesting, I never would have thought of that.”

You shrugged, “I thought it was.”

“And you went from that to working in an office?”

“I was a desk jockey in a financial trading company.”

“ _Yeesh_. That’s harsh.”

“Yeah.”

“I’m guessing that’s not what you wanted to do with your degree.”

I laughed. “Obviously not.”

“What did you want to do?”

“Well… I don’t know. After I did all that research, I sort of wished I could go back to that time. At least no one had to worry about Fox News.”

“They had diseases.”

“Yeah, but was that _really_ worse? Also, measles is the hip thing again anyway, so have we _really_ moved forward?”

She looked at you as you shrugged empathetically and laughed. “Alright, maybe not.”

You laughed. “I’ve always wanted to weave. Like, on a big loom and everything.”

“I suppose after all that research about the subject you must have wanted to actually do it.”

You nodded.

She seemed delighted at the idea. “I believe there are some old-fashioned looms somewhere, and I can ask one of the royal weavers to teach you.”

“You have royal weavers?”

“Of course. Our textiles industry is as old as our culture and the line of Kings. The royal family should always be dressed in traditional fabrics for formal events.”

You remembered the shawl T’Challa wore at the dinner yesterday, the blues, browns, and yellows, expertly combined into a beautiful pattern. “That's very true.”

“I'll ask around. You can start learning tomorrow if you like.”

You smiled broadly, “That would be amazing. Thank you.”

 

* * *

 

The door to the small building opened.

“Hello old friends!” Heimdall said and embraced both brothers.

Thor and Loki both hugged him and then went inside to say hello to the former subjects of Asgard.

“Would you like anything to eat? Drink?”

“No, thank you. I’m fine.” Thor answered.

“Might I trouble you for a glass of water?” Loki asked, and Heimdall retrieved one for him.

They all sat at the table and caught up. How everyone liked living in Wakanda, who had what job, what they were doing with their lives, how their kids were doing in school. Everyone seemed to be doing well, having found their place in society and having made friends with the Wakandans they met.

Did they still miss Asgard? The answer was of course yes, and the room became somber for a moment until they all decided to toast to the end of Ragnarok and were hopeful that one day Surtur could be defeated and Asgard could be rebuilt. The warriors of the group – men and women – pledged their swords and spears to the eventual battle.

When Thor decided to sit with the other Asgardians, Heimdall took the opportunity to speak with Loki alone.

“So, when do I get to meet her?” Heimdall asked.

Loki smiled. “Saw her, did you?”

“I did.”

“How do your powers work here? My magic doors don’t.”

Heimdall smiled. “It’s not a question of magic, my ability to see and hear everything in the nine realms is simply a result of my own excellent sight and hearing.”

Loki smirked. He thought that there might be more to it – whether it was something Heimdall wasn’t telling him or something he himself didn’t know, he wasn’t sure – but he felt no reason to press the issue.

“How did you ever find someone who would tolerate you?”

“You seem to tolerate me pretty well right now.”

“Yes, but I have no designs on romance with you.”

They both laughed.

“Do you really want to meet her?”

“Of course. You’re my prince, I would like to meet the woman you love.”

“You don’t have to keep calling me a prince. Asgard is…”

“Asgard is what your brother said it is: a people. And its people are still alive and thriving, no matter how far away they are from home.”

Loki watched Thor for a moment as he played with the young Asgardian children, reacting to the drawings they showed him with great interest, letting them climb on him, play fighting. “Yes, but… I wonder if the Asgardians born here will ever know the wonder of their realm. The ones born here in Wakanda wouldn’t have that much of a shock, but the ones living in other places on earth… they’ll never know the splendor of the Golden Hall, nor the glittering rainbows of the Bifrost… I can’t help but think that their lives would be the lesser for it.”

“I doubt that Asgard will be destroyed for so much of their lives, we are a long-lived people after all. The children can be taught all of the ways of building Asgard so when they return to its spot, they can rebuild it.”

Loki nodded.

“Is it that… you also wish that _she_ could see it?”

“Of course. I love her, Heimdall, and the thought that I can’t bedeck her in every family heirloom I am privy to having and show her off to the cosmos as the princess of a great kingdom, pains me. I wish I could show her the expertly carved halls, the tapestries woven with our history, the murals, the bountiful feasts… it should all be hers.”

“I have been trying not to pry,” Heimdall started hesitantly, “now that I’m living on a planet where omniscience could get me into trouble, I’ve been trying to blind and deafen myself to much of Midgard with varying success. But I have seen the jewelry you’ve given her, is that why you had them made?”

“Yes. They are different in construction and style than Asgardian jewelry, yes, but I want her to know what awaits her. Especially if…” Loki trailed off. Would he jinx himself if he said it? Was he being superstitious by doing so?

“If…” Heimdall continued, “you ask her to marry you and she says yes.”

Loki nodded. “I’m insane for thinking she would say yes, aren’t I?” He laughed.

Heimdall smiled warmly. “I don’t think so. She seems to like you a great deal. But look at me, speaking as if I already know her. _When_ are you going to bring her here for me to meet her?”

“Very soon, friend. Very soon.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To the commentor who wanted more fashion and less politics: I'm sorry my beautiful angelfish, there will always be both. But this chapter, there's Gucci. (I own a knockoff of the aforementioned sweater, btw. XD)  
> \--  
> Also, I wrote this sometime after I wrote the beginning chapters, and I was just laughing at my own writing XD  
> \--  
> Leave a comment if you liked it! :D


	17. Chapter 17

The next day, Shuri had already arranged for you to meet with the master weaver. You and Loki woke early and had breakfast. He dressed in casual clothes again as he and Shuri had a long day ahead of them, trying to get into the ship’s onboard computer—or just glean any information about the ship and where it came from. You dressed in a relaxed look, ready to learn: dark grey leggings with a loose, burgundy tank top, and an oversized button up cardigan, your hair tied up in a messy bun.

Ready to learn to weave or possibly ‘millenial on her way to write at a café for 4 hours straight.’ It could have gone either way.

Shuri met the two of you at your room and walked you over to a room in the palace that wasn’t being used that she had set up as a room for you to weave in. In the room was a large standing loom and an older woman -  her face wrinkled by the rays of the sun and with such deep ‘smile lines’ that you figured she must have led a happy life filled with mirth – greeted you as you entered. She introduced herself as Kisani, master weaver of Wakanda. You would have been a nervous wreck were it not for her kind features and broad smile upon your entering the room. You shook her hand hello.

Loki kissed you goodbye and both he and Shuri wished you luck on your new endeavor before leaving for the lab.

Kisani beckoned you to sit in the stool in front of the loom and sat in the one next to you. She began by saying that she chose this particular loom because its style was popular in Europe, and when Shuri told her about your dissertation, she felt that showing you a Wakandan loom – which has slight differences – would have been wrong. She wanted you do be close to the kind of weaving that you had thought of as you were doing your research. You thanked her and asked if she knew the weaving styles of many other cultures.

“My child, I could not be called ‘Master Weaver’ if I didn’t,” she said with a chuckle.

You smiled. What a foolish question.

She showed you all the parts of the loom and had you stand up to better see the parts you couldn’t your stool. She described each part in great detail, how they worked, how they were made, and problems that they could cause while working. You were pleased to find that you still knew many of the parts and remembered how many of them worked as she named and described them.

You spent most of the day setting up the warp together so you could weave the next day. And although you sometimes created a tangled mess, she never lost her cool with you or even sighed out of exasperation. She was a woman of infinite patience, the best kind of teacher.

“Why is it that you are so interested in weaving?” She asked as you worked at untangling yet another knot you created in your impatience.

You shrugged. “I think… I don’t know. I mean, it’s extremely interesting. The metaphor of a single thread being a life, all of the threads of life together make a tapestry of reality. That a single thread is spun and continues to be spun until it is finally cut… after all this time it’s still compelling to me. And then this metaphor for reality was continued and built upon until we got the modern idea of reality as a fabric, a mesh of space and time…” You trailed off and thought for a moment, half trying to remember what you had written years ago and half chastising yourself for not having looked at it in a while when you were so _obsessed_ about it during the research and writing. “It just makes so much sense.”

Kisani smiled and nodded slowly. “There is something about it that seems to have… almost a parallel to life. Everything is interconnected, whether we realize it or not. We are all part of the massive being that is this planet.”

“I suppose that’s why it makese so much sense to me that weaving is very heavily related with destiny and magic. Even if only from a metaphorical perspective.”

“Why not from a literal perspective?”

You shrugged. “I don’t know—” you stopped yourself. “I was just about to say that I don’t believe in magic but then I realized I would be a hypocrite because my boyfriend is literally a sorcerer from another planet.”

Your frankness took Kisani by surprise and she laughed heartily, clapping you on the shoulder before going back to the tangled mess of warp thread. “At least you can be so honest with yourself.”

You smiled. “I wonder if Shuri’s ever tried to figure out how his magic worked. Or Wanda’s. Or Steven’s.”

Kisani shrugged. “I wouldn’t know if she’s tried, but I wouldn’t be surprised if she could. She is a very bright girl.”

“She is. I hope she and Loki make some headway on the ship, we still don’t even know who attacked New York, never mind if they’re coming back or not, you know? It’s really scary.”

The conversation having fallen to something that Kisani didn’t know much about, the two of you untangled the thread in silence for a while.

After a few more minutes, in which she had gotten most of the knot untangled while you were still struggling, she asked, “So how do you like Wakanda?”

“I haven’t seen much of it yet, but what I have seen it’s beautiful. Your culture is so rich and vibrant and… I feel like you guys actually use colors here when decorating buildings.”

Kisani laughed.

“I’m serious. Most exteriors where I’m from are concrete, steel, and glass, and most interiors are what I like to call ‘inoffensive beige’ but to me the lack of any kind of decision or opinion on a color is completely offensive.”

“Why such a lack of color?”

You shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe that’s what happens when your culture is descended from a bunch of sexually repressed idiots?”

She laughed again. “I can imagine how that might effect other aspects of people’s lives.”

You chuckled. “The only thing that kind of disagrees with me about Wakanda is I was told it gets very hot here in the summer. I hate the heat and wouldn’t be able to deal with it.”

Kisani smiled.

“New York is hot enough in the summer I couldn’t imagine living in a place that’s actually closer to the equator. I’d never survive.”

“You should ask about visiting the Jabari tribe then. They live in the mountains and have snow for most of the year.”

You let out a small, involuntary gasp. “Really?”

She smiled. “I can see in your eyes that I have your attention.”

“You have every iota of it,” you laughed, “Loki and I can just visit?”

“It is his first time here as well as yours, correct?”

“Yes.”

“Then I’m sure you can suggest a visit with the leader of the Jabari tribe, M’Baku. That would give the two of you a good excuse for going.”

You looked at her devilishly before saying. “I like you, Kisani. I really like you.”

She laughed.

 

* * *

 

After almost two hours, the knotted and tangled mass of warp thread had finally been returned to its near pristine state of being rolled up into a ball. Kisani had soothed your anxiety part way through tangling it when she told you that most people new to weaving end up with some incomprehensible mass of string at some point when they’re first starting out.

By about 5pm the two of you had successfully warped the loom and started a few dummy rows of white weft.

“This is going to hold the warp threads in the correct place for the rest of the weaving and be a border for the end.”

You nodded. Your stomach rumbled.

Kisani looked at her kimoyo and the time popped up. “Oh, we worked right through lunch. Well, let’s break for the day and we can continue tomorrow if you have no other obligations.”

“I don’t think I do.”

“Excellent. Then you will come back tomorrow, I will teach you a real warp, and you can decide colors and patterns.”

You thanked her and went to the casual dining room to find that everyone else had already arrived for dinner. You apologized for your lateness and took your place next to Loki.

“How was your weaving?” He asked as he passed you a plate of spiced meat.

“Fun. Well, the learning was fun, the untangling something I had screwed up wasn’t _as_ fun. But we talked about different things, so that was fun.”

He smiled. “So in all, you had a good day.”

You thought for a moment. You tried to remember the last time you felt you had actually accomplished anything with a day of work. Certainly, and it almost didn’t need to be said, you hadn’t felt that way when you still had your ‘actual’ job. It was almost strange now to feel as if you had gotten something done with your day. And after a few moments you were finally able to put your finger on it: the last time you had felt like your day meant something was when you were still working on your dissertation. _Jesus Christ._ That was a long time ago.

“Yeah,” you smiled. “I had a really good day.”

Loki smiled back. “I’m glad.”

“Did you guys make any headway on the ship?”

He sighed. “Another day of disappointment, another day of not knowing.”

“That sucks.”

He chuckled at the turn of phrase, “It does.”

After the two of you returned to your food for a few moments you remembered your conversation with Kisani.

“Oh,” you said quietly, “how do you feel about snow?”

He cocked his head at you, wondering if you were serious and stared at you a moment before answering. “I happen to love snow. Why?”

“Kisani, the woman who was teaching me to weave, said that there’s a tribe in the mountains and it snows all the time there. We could visit them and maybe see some snow.”

“Sounds like a good idea. When would you want to go?”

“Umm,” you really hadn’t thought about it. “I mean, not immediately since you’re working on the ship and I’m just starting to learn to weave, but maybe once you guys figure something out we can take a little break and go to the mountains.”

“Makes sense. I’ll talk about it to T’Challa when we finally decide when we’re going.”

“Cool.”

 

* * *

 

A few days later, Shuri and Loki still hadn’t made any headway and Loki had decided to take a break around lunch time. He looked up from the refrigerator as Thor walked in.

“Hey. Also looking for lunch?”

“Yeah.”

Loki moved to the side so Thor could see into it. It had Wakandan staples – meat and rice, spiced meat stews, rice and vegetables – as well as the average American sandwich fare. Currently, Loki had a plate of meat, rice, and vegetables in the microwave for Shuri and he was making a sandwich for himself. Thor had caught him as he was in the middle of deciding what complicated set of ingredients he wanted on it.

“Thanks,” Thor said and joined him looking into the fridge. “It’s so strange that T’Challa lets us just go through the fridge like we’re in a normal house that _isn’t_ a palace.”

Loki shrugged. “I mean, we might be guests but we’re also here as Avengers, to work. Maybe he doesn’t want us to feel too out of place.”

“I haven’t seen that many servants around, have you?”

“I suspect whatever hierarchy of class they have here is somewhat more flexible than we had on Asgard. Wakanda seems generally more equal.” Loki pulled a bunch of condiments out of the fridge. “But they have had the benefit of learning from the mistakes the rest of this planet has made, instead of having to make them themselves like we did.”

Thor shrugged and opened his mouth to speak.

“Also, remember that we were imperialists and colonialists, Wakanda is the result of successfully hiding from imperialism and colonialism. I would imagine they don’t share the same views of class and wealth as say, the English in the late 1800s or the American oligarchs now.”

Thor tilted his head. “Brushing up on your Earth history?”

“It felt necessary. Y/N has talked about it a few times and I didn’t want to be left behind.”

“’Talked’ or ranted?” Thor asked slyly.

Loki laughed. “She can be quite passionate.” He smiled to himself. “One of the things I like about her.”

Thor closed the fridge as Loki set about putting his sandwich together. No cultural context for the flavors and textures of what he had pulled out of the fridge, he was assembling it with only his own ideas of what was ‘good’ or ‘bad’.

And making a damn mess doing it.

“I’ve been meaning to ask you about that… You seemed so sure that Jane and I didn’t work, that we _wouldn’t_ work, and you were so mean to me about her being a human but now _you’re_ dating a human…” He shrugged, “Where you trying to be the worst?”

Loki chuckled a little. “For the record, I did actually like Jane.”

“You liar.”

“I did. I wasn’t just being a dick when she slapped me and I said I liked her. She was decisive, fiery-- I thought she was great.”

“Then why were you… well _you_ about her?”

Loki thought for a moment before closing the jar he was holding and leaning back against the counter. “Well… I was mad at you at the time. Furious. You and dad had put me in jail and you got to go out and galivant with your cute Midgardian girlfriend? I was incensed.”

“That’s not what it was, and you know it.”

“Yeah, I know that _now_ and at the time… yeah, I knew it at the time. But I was still mad and well within my rights to be a bitch about it if I felt the need to do so.”

Thor looked surprised at his admission. “So, you did like her?”

“I just said I did.”

“Then why be so mean?”

“Well, I thought she could do better. And she _did_ break up with you so—”

“It was a mutual breaking up.”

“Thor…” Loki waited until Thor looked him in the eyes. “No it wasn’t.”

Thor looked away.

“Girls don’t like having intergalactic relationships with a guy who is never.”

“And what? You’re an expert all of a sudden?”

“I mean… someone says I am.” Loki winked.

“ _Ugh_ , brother, I don’t want to know about your sex life.”

Loki laughed. “Not just that, it seems that most human men, Americans at least, aren’t very um…” he had to think of the right words, “emotionally mature?”

Thor scoffed at the idea. “And you are?”

“I had some time to think on Sakaar. Mostly I spent a lot of time getting over myself, then what you said in the elevator…” he looked into the distance wistfully. “That stung. It hurt.”

“What, learning I was done with your bullshit hurt?” Thor asked as he took a piece of carrot out of the fridge and chomped on it.

Loki chuckled. The microwave went off, he took the food out, stirred it around and put it back in. “If this was a few years ago, that would have made me mad but… I mean, yeah. Even when we were kids and I would do the snake bit, you always fell for it. You trusted me like a—a big, dumb golden retriever.”

“What’s that?”

“A dog. The shaggy golden ones that always look blissfully happy no matter what’s going on.”

“Like the one Steve brought us to meet that time? I love those dogs.”

Loki laughed. It figured. “Then you know that that was _you_ all through our childhood.”

“I was a pretty happy kid,” Thor smiled to himself.

“I’m glad one of us was.”

“You had no reason to be unhappy.”

“There was always this… lurking feeling. Like something was wrong, like I didn’t belong, like you were dad’s favorite and I was the second best—”

“You were mom’s favorite.”

“We were _both_ mom’s favorite.”

Thor nodded.

While their father wasn’t very good at being an impartial parent, their mom was much more even in her affections. Although Loki was her baby, he only was by a slim margin.

“Dad was a disaster, wasn’t he?”

Loki nodded.

“Hidden child and all.”

“Maybe there’s something to be said for not ruling for thousands of years. Lessens the chance of… as I’ve heard Y/N describe it once, ‘messy bitch-ness.’”

Thor laughed. “I see why she and Parker get along so well.”

Loki smiled. “They are closer in age to each to each other than either of us are to them.”

Thor’s smile dropped and he became sober again. “So… what about all that stuff you said about humans dying sooner than us? You know her life span is a blink of the eye compared to ours…”

“You think that just because I’m dating a human now doesn’t mean I’ve forgotten?”

Thor watched as Loki formulated a response.

“I couldn’t understand how you let yourself fall in love with Jane when you _knew_ that, and now, I can’t understand how I’ve let myself do the same with Y/N. When I saw her walk by that day… I don’t know. It was like something struck me, I _had_ to talk to her. I _had_ to get to know her and be near her and… the things that you said you don’t want to hear.” Loki laughed quietly.

Thor rolled his eyes.

“But I wanted to say and do things that made her smile, I wanted to hear about her day and tell her she was beautiful. I wanted _her_.”

“Do you think maybe she’s a sorceress?”

Loki leveled a _look_ at him. “I’ve been trying to teach her mom’s magic if only so she could get around more quickly.” He shook his head. “She can’t figure it out.”

Thor nodded, idea quashed.

“I wish I could do something, _anything_ so I don’t have to watch her die in a few short years.”

“She’s young, you still have time before then.”

“If I don’t get her killed first, you mean.”

“ _Maybe_ putting her in an alien ship wasn’t the _best_ idea.”

“Shuri’s been working on the defensive suit idea in between cracking the ship’s computer, she has some good ideas so far.”

“I should bully Tony into making her an Ironman suit.”

“Oh, we could do that. Do you think he’d make one?”

“Maybe.”

“But… even if she doesn’t die helping us, all I can think about is in the far-off future, where she’ll be nothing but a memory to me. Something and someone that happened long ago that I could never go back to. Someone I can never see or touch again. Like…  some beautiful dream that I woke up from a long time ago and can never go back to.”

Thor leaned on the counter next to Loki and put a hand on his shoulder.

“How did you deal with it when you dated Jane?”

“I uh, I didn’t. I didn’t think about it at all because I didn’t want to be sad.”

“Ah,” Loki felt it figured. A golden retriever can’t be blissfully happy if he thought about the inevitable death of his human girlfriend. He leaned into his brother, not so much consoled by the conversation as he was comforted by not being alone.

The microwave went off again.

“I should finish our lunches,” Loki said as he stirred it again and set it aside to cool a little. “Shuri and I have to eat and get back to work.”

Thor nodded. “I’m sorry, brother, I wish I could help.”

Loki shrugged.

Thor walked out of the room.

Loki called to him, “Thor!”

Thor walked back in. “What?”

“Sorry for being such a dick about it when you were dating Jane. I saw a therapist after we got the Asgardians settled on Earth. I know now that I was being an asshole.”

Thor nodded. “Little too late, brother, but thanks. I’m glad you went.”

Loki smiled.

“I’m sorry you’re going through the same thing now.”

Loki nodded. Unsure of what to say in response. He offered a weak smiled that said, ’ _I appreciate your empathy, but I wish there was something I could do about the situation_.’

Thor smiled back and left.

As he stood there alone fixing his lunch, Loki came to a realization: Yes, it was sad that the woman he loved would only ever be a blip on the timeline that was his life. It made him feel heartbroken, _heartsick_ , as if she had already died, and if he thought about it too much it would have turned him bitter.

But he didn’t want to be bitter, certainly not towards the object of his affections. He didn’t want to let his impending grief, the heart he knew would be made heavy by her passing, affect his feelings towards her now. If there was one thing he had learned in his recent life, it was to let go of the things he shouldn’t hold on to, and he had to let go of the morbidity of the situation, the melancholy that he was _certain_ awaited him and the end of the road he would share with her. After all, she couldn’t control her short life span any more than she could control how much he loved her.

He took out two more slices of bread and got a second plate from the cabinet. At the very least, he could shower her with such affection that she would never feel unloved, undesired, or unwanted. As he started a second sandwich, something a bit more Earth-inspired and less like someone who was throwing culinary ideas together with reckless abandon, he vowed that he would spend most every waking moment of his life showing her she was loved by him, and showing her how much he appreciated by him.

He wouldn’t let his pessimism cloud his mind like he might have when he was a younger man.

“Hey,” Shuri said as she walked into the kitchen. “Oh, you made lunch?”

“Yeah, I was hoping to cut you a break since you’ve been working so hard on the ship’s computer.”

Shuri picked up the bowl meant for her and smelled all the spices inherent in the dish. “You didn’t have to, you’ve been working on the computer the whole time too.”

“Maybe. But I don’t feel as if I’m of any help since I haven’t been able to decipher any of the text in any of the menus. Y/N was just flying it from me figuring out as much as I could by pressing random buttons.”

“It does have intuitive menu design, I’ll give it that.” Shuri looked at the two sandwiches on the counter. “You’re so hungry you made two sandwiches? You could have just made one large sandwich!”

Loki laughed. “Only one is for me.”

“Ahh.”

“She’s been working hard at learning to weave and I’m going to guess that she’s already accidentally gone without lunch more than one day this week. I thought I’d bring her some.”

Shuri nodded but then screwed up her face, creasing her brows. “You’re such a nice boyfriend, Mr. ‘I-once-tried-to-take-over-the-world.’”

Loki laughed. “You just missed Thor asking me how I was dating a human when I once gave him shit for dating a human.”

“You know… I did find it a little weird when you showed up with a human. Like, a _regular_ human, she doesn’t even have powers or anything.”

Loki nodded.

“But we can’t help who we fall in love with, I suppose.”

“Truer words have never been spoken.” He smiled.

“I’m going to go eat,” Shuri said as she indicated she was going to walk into the small dining room off the kitchen. “I can’t stand here and talk anymore, holding this food is making me realize I’m hungry.”

Loki laughed. “I’ll bring this to Y/N and be right back.”

“Okay!” Shuri said with a full mouth from the table.

 

* * *

 

Loki walked through the now well-travelled halls of the palace and easily found his way to the room he knew his girlfriend was learning to weave. As he stopped in front of the door he wondered if he should stop by and say ‘hello’ or if it would be seen as a distraction. He certainly didn’t want to become a distraction to her since weaving was all she’d been talking about during their dinners since Shuri found her a teacher. He placed the plate on the floor and knocked on the door, and ran down the hall to hide.

The door opened and she stepped out, confused as to why there was no one there before looking down and seeing the sandwich. She smiled as she picked it up and then closed the door.

Her smile made him happy, it always did like every time was like the first time he saw it. His phone buzzed.

Lady Love: Did you just leave a sandwich outside my door?

Loki: Yes :)

Lady Love: You didn’t leave anything to drink.

Lady Love: Also, why did you leave it without saying hi?

Loki slapped his hand against his face before texting back.

Loki: I’ll be right back.

 

* * *

 

You heard footsteps run down the hallway as you and Kisani stood there, laughing about Loki leaving the sandwich. A few moments later, a knock was heard again at the door and you handed the sandwich to Kisani and opened it.

“Hey,” Loki said. “I brought you a drink,” he held up a glass of water.

“So you did. I have a question though, what is Kisani supposed to eat or drink?”

Loki realized his error and handed you the water, “I’ll be right back.”

“Loki!” You yelled down the hall and stopped him running. “How about we all eat in the kitchen together?”

He walked back over. “I’m sorry. That would be a great idea.”

You laughed and handed him the water and took the sandwich from Kisani who laughed to herself.

“You’re such a weirdo sometimes,” you said and took his free hand in yours.

Loki whispered into your ear, “Only because sometimes I think of you and nothing else and it makes me forget what I’m doing.”

You chuckled.

Once you reached the kitchen, where Shuri was halfway through her food and watching a vine compilation, Loki took another bowl out of the cabinet and asked Kisani which of the Wakandan dishes she’d like. She replied that she wanted to try a ‘sandwich’ instead and asked if he could make her one like yours.

Loki put the bowl back and grabbed a plate instead and whipped up another sandwich.

Minutes later, as you, Shuri and Kisani were laughing over watching ‘It is Wednesday, My Dudes’ and ‘Kiss One Another, Die for Each Other’ over and over again, Loki came out with the sandwich and placed the plate in front of Kisani with a smile.

Shuri turned off her kimoyo and returned to her food, found it cold, and got up to put it in the microwave.

“Let me know what you think,” Loki said to you and Kisani, “I’m not sure if I’ve gotten the flavors right. If it’s not good, I’m sorry.”

Shuri laughed from the kitchen.

You and Kisani shared a trepidatious glance. You, because you weren’t even sure what he had put on it, her, well you guessed it was because she had never even tried a regular sandwich and this one wasn’t even made by a human who understood what a human might find delicious.

You both bit into your sandwich and chewed thoughtfully as Loki watched you carefully, trying to discern any reaction of hatred for the food he made.

After a few moments where neither of you had spoken, he finally asked, “So?”

You and Kisani looked at each other and you nodded. As you nodded she began to nod as well.

“I think it’s good,” you said.

“Yes, very good,” Kisani added.

“Really?” Loki’s had taken on the appearance of a girl in an anime whose senpai had noticed her.

“Yeah, you laughed.”

“Is this a normal American sandwich?” Kisani asked before taking another bite.”

Before Loki could answer, you did. “Oh no, it’s a weird combo of things, I’m surprised you even had relish here, but it’s good.”

Loki looked at you, shocked.

“Hon, you did a terrible job at trying to make a ‘normal’ sandwich, if that’s what you were going for, but you did make a really good sandwich. I’m proud.”

“But they make sandwiches like this at that shop you like.”

“Yeah, but I don’t go there for normal, average, boring sandwiches, I go there because I want fun things.”

“So this sandwich is… fun?” He asked with a sideways glance, his face betraying that he didn’t understand what that meant.

“Yeah. I like it.” You took another bite.

He relaxed. He still had a face that appeared that he didn’t understand how something could both be weird and good.

“Hey,” you said and he looked at you, “You made a really good sandwich.”

He smiled tentatively.

You eyeballed his sandwich. “Did you make the same for yourself?”

He shook his head. “No, I put things that I like together.”

You slid his plate over to you and pulled up the top piece of bread. There was a menagerie of condiments under it that you weren’t sure what some of them were, and a combination of vegetation and meat that had you confused. You looked at him.

He smiled.

You put the bread back the way it was and slid it back over to him. “I hope you enjoy it.” You smiled.

He ate that sandwich like it was the most normal combination of things in the world.

It was _not_.

 

* * *

 

About four days later, at the end of the day, when you had the first few inches of what you were pretty sure was going to be a blanket, Kisani gave you a book she had on styles of weaving in Scandinavia and told you she didn’t have anything more to teach you.

“Really? How?”

“You picked everything up so quickly you put me out of a job,” she laughed.

“I’m going to miss your tutelage and our conversations,” you smiled sadly.

“Well, I have my own weaving to get back to, and I think you’re far enough along that you don’t need me anymore.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’m sure.”

You hugged her. “Thank you so much for taking the time to teach me something I’ve always wanted to learn.”

“What the phrase you Americans always use? ‘It’s no problem’? It was no problem, my child, I live to teach.”

“You’ve given me something… invaluable.”

She opened the door as you both left the room. “Feel free to bother me if you get stuck. I won’t mind.” She smiled.

“Alright.”

You said your goodbyes and you made your way back to yours and Loki’s room with your new book in hand. You opened the door to find the room empty, and laid across the bed and began reading.

 

* * *

 

An hour or so later you awoke to the door opening. You squinted, your vision blurry from sleep.

“Loki?”

“Hey. What are you doing in here? I thought you had lessons today.”

“I did. She said she didn’t have any more to teach me.”

“Wow, good job.”

“Mhm,” you murmured as you rolled over and stretched. “She gave me this book and I guess I fell asleep reading it.

He plucked the book from your outstretched hand as you continued your stretch.

“Scandinavian Weaving: A History and Patterns,” he flipped it over to the other side. “Huh,” he said as he tapped a picture of a blanket, “this one looks familiar. I wonder if humans used it when we were still visiting.”

“You know, I sometimes I actually forget that you’re over a thousand years old and then you say things like _that_...”

“He laughed and laid down next to you. “And then you’re reminded how distinguished and worldly I am?”

“And then I’m reminded you’re _old as balls_.” You gave him a shove.

Loki laughed. “As much as I would like to roughhouse, Shuri and I _still_ haven’t made any progress on the ship and I’m hungry. You should come to dinner.”

You held out your hands as if you were a small child who wanted to be picked up.

“What is that? I don’t know what that means.”

“Up. Uppy.”

He screwed up his face at you for a moment before helping you up and throwing you over his shoulder.

You squealed and laughed. “I didn’t think you’d _do_ it!”

“You asked for it.”

He carried you all the way down the hall as you bobbed along, laughing and smiling and occasionally drumming on his buttcheeks as he walked. He opened the door to the dining room and everyone looked at the two of you as Loki walked over to the chairs you two normally sat in and stood you next to your chair before pulling it out for you. You curtseyed and sat.

“Argument?” Thor asked.

“Laziness,” Loki answered.

“I was not being lazy, I didn’t think you’d actually carry me all the way here,” you laughed.

You and Loki ate as everyone was already halfway through their food and the conversation turned to the ship and the fact that Loki and Shuri still hadn't gotten anywhere.

“I just can't figure out anything else we could possibly do. But, you're much smarter than I am, so maybe you've figured out something,” Loki said to Shuri.

Your phone, which you had forgotten was in your pocket, buzzed. It was a text from Shuri that simply read “Loss.jpg.”

“I'm at a loss,” she replied.

You stifled a giggle.

She smiled at you. “I don't know what more we can do for now. Maybe it's best we just… take a break?”

Loki nodded. “Maybe it's the best idea. Actually, T'Challa, Y/N and I were thinking that visiting the Jabari and seeing some snow could be fun. Would we be able to do that?”

“There's snow at this time of year?” Thor asked no one in particular.

“Yes,” T'Challa answered, “the Jabari mountains are perpetually covered in snow. I suppose you could use the excuse to have a change of scenery as well.”

Loki looked to you, “You'd have to stop weaving for a time.

You nodded. “I'm fine with that. I'm doing pretty well so I think I'm fine to take a break.”

T’Challa smiled. “Then if you wish to go, I will arrange it.”

“I’d like to go to,” Wanda added. “The Jabari were such fierce warriors when we fought Thanos, I would like to see the place that made them so.”

 “And you Thor? Will you visit as well?” T’Challa asked?

“Actually I was going to go back to the US and bring Erik Selvig back to take a look at the ship and see what he could figure out, at Shuri’s request.”

“Then it’s a good thing we’re leaving the Palace,” Loki said to his brother.

Thor nodded.

“So I will ask on behalf of three of my guests,” T’Challa said and clapped his hands together. “Do you all have warm clothing?”

You and Wanda shook your heads, Loki made no movement.

“Then we shall provide you with some,” he smiled. “I will arrange for you to visit tomorrow morning and you can leave after lunch.”

You, Loki, and Wanda all smiled.

“Just so you know, there’s no ski culture there. If you were looking forward to that.” Nakia said.

“Oh, I can’t ski anyway,” you admitted.

“Neither can I,” Wanda added.

“I didn’t want you to get your hopes up if that was the case,” she smiled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Leave a comment if you liked it! :D


	18. Chapter 18

 The Jabari tribe lived in the mountains in the north of Wakanda and this afforded T’Challa the opportunity to show the rest of the country off to you and his other guests.

The small ship he had lent you flew low over the savanna as the Dora Milaje who had been tasked with your transport told you of the many animals and habitats that could be found in Wakanda. You followed herds of antelope and zebra, and people from the Border Tribe waved as you went by their herd of war rhinos.

The reveal of the Jabari tribe city was spectacular as you climbed in altitude, moving quickly from rolling hills to low mountains and finally to snow-covered mountaintops. The sun shone brightly as not a cloud was in the sky, and you marveled at how majestic the snow-capped mountains were.

The effect was not unlike the first time you saw the Matterhorn in a documentary as a child, it’s sharpened peak stabbing upwards into the blueness of the sky like a painter slashing at their canvas with a palette knife in reckless abandon, the planes of its sides covered in densely packed glimmering snow.

You wondered if the person who took that footage felt then the same way you did now.

No less amazing were the seemingly wooden buildings of the Jabari, sitting nestled in the white snowdrifts as if they were placed there by a careful and loving god, you figured that they must be reinforced with steel or be anchored to the rock with cables. Or _something_ , because _how did they sit there as if they had always been there_?

You caught the shape of a gorilla who stood outward from the cliff face, using its strength to hold up the end of a building. The Dora who flew the ship noticed you looking at it.

“That’s the god the Jabari worship, Ghekre. You’ll find his visage and gorilla theming throughout Jabari art and architecture.”

You nodded. “I’m surprised that he seems to be holding up the end of that building and is yet so intricately carved.”

“A metaphor for how the Jabari see the world, perhaps?” Loki offered.

“Frank Lloyd Wright would be _massively_ jealous of their architecture, were he alive.”

In fact, Frank Lloyd Wright’s concept of ‘organic architecture’ seemed to be very much in play in the designs of the Jabari buildings. Larger buildings were long and horizontal either across the mountain or sticking out from it, as if trying to juxtapose the innate verticality of the mountains themselves. Smaller buildings dotted the mountainscape, sometimes dug into the mountains themselves, sometimes in the flat, shelf-like areas. A multitude of wooden rope bridges crisscrossed the peaks, letting the Jabari traverse dangerous areas with ease. The buildings were as much a part of the mountains as the snow that decorated its face and the Jabari had _obviously_ thought of the concept of organic architecture first _and_ executed it with more skill.

If only Frank Lloyd Wright hadn’t died before they became known to the world. He would be _shitting himself_ with architectural terror.

You bet _their_ buildings didn’t have the same problems that Falling Water did.

The Dora – whose name you never got, you realized – landed the small craft on a landing pad on the mountain. Two Jabari guards – a man and a woman who towered over everyone in your party – were there to escort you to the leader of the Jabari. They waited as you unloaded your luggage and took your leave of the ship.

“Excuse me,” you asked the Dora Milaje.

“Yes?” She asked, somewhat confused.

“You never told us your name. I was wondering if I might ask it.”

She smiled. “Aneka.”

You returned the smile. “Thank you for flying us here, Aneka. It was nice to meet you.”

“If you let T’Challa or Shuri know when you are ready to fly back, I will bring you back to the Golden City.”

You nodded.

She boarded the ship and took off.

Loki held out his hand and you put yours in his. He laughed for a moment before kissing you on the head and took your bag from you. He motioned to Wanda to give him her bag as well. And so you walked, the prince of an alien race carrying your luggage as you all strolled behind the Jabari guard who lead you through the palace, while a second one followed behind.

The walls of the building were of simple wood paneling that looked smooth to the touch and instead of paintings or other hanging art, every meter or so there was a niche in the wall with an illuminated statue of some kind. It had the sense of serenity that a museum had and instead of feeling cold it felt very calm.

Finally, you made your way into what you imagined would be called a ‘throne room’ had its occupant been a king. It was mostly without walls and open to the outside; now you understood why T’Challa wanted to make sure you and Wanda had warm clothing. There sat the leader of the Jabari, M’Baku, flanked by two guards.

“Hello,” he stated plainly, “I was told you wished to visit my lands and my people.”

“Yes,” Loki responded, you and Wanda were too nervous to do so. “We were told the mountains you lived in were beautiful.”

“I’m so glad our beautiful peaks have interested you.” M’Baku said and started giggling to himself.

You and Wanda looked at each other as he started outright laughing, and as you turned to Loki he guffawed. The three of you stood around awkwardly as you waited for his laughter to subside. But you were struck with an inspiration of stupidity.

“They did, but once we heard there was no skiing it was all downhill from there.”

M’Baku was inconsolable with laughter as one of his guards watched him out of the corner of his eye. His bassy laughs filled the room and two little girls ran in and ran over to the Jabari leader.

“Daddy, daddy! Why are you laughing?” One asked as she jumped next to his chair.

“We want to see the man from another planet!” The other shouted as she did the same.

M’Baku gathered both kids into his arms and hugged them tightly. Loki looked at you with a mix of impressed awe and an expression you could only decipher as, ‘Why did you do that? He might laugh for forever.’

Compared to T’Challa’s general stoicness, M’Baku was a _riot_.

“I like you, what is your name?”

You told him.

“You are very funny. Shuri tells me they are called ‘dad jokes’? They are my favorite thing from the outside world, I’m glad you know them as well.” He stood, “I would like to present to you, my two youngest girls, Ayo and Folami, who I _told_ had to wait to see you, but it appears they don’t know what the word means.”

You smiled. “I’m sure they’re just excited.”

The two young girls – who must have been six and seven – ran over to Loki and began their excited jumping in front of him.

“Are you the man from another planet?”

“What’s it like to be from another planet?”

“Did you come here on a spaceship?”

“Can we see your spaceship?”

“Do you know any other aliens?”

“What’s it like to be an alien?”

“Do the Americans like you?”

“What’s it like to live in America?”

Loki put the luggage down and held up a hand, they were immediately captivated. “Yes. It’s okay. Yes. I didn’t bring it with me. Yes. Not any different than being a human. Some do. And it’s mostly okay, I live there because my brother lives there.”

The two girls gasped at his responses before they began jumping and asking questions again, when a woman who seemed to be in her thirties ran in.

“I’m so sorry, they got away from me.”

“Don’t worry about it, honey, they’re just excited,” M’Baku replied. “This is my wife, Nailah.”

Nailah nodded and tried to usher the children out of the room as she chastised them, “You weren’t supposed to meet them until later and you know that. Now you will not have dessert when the rest of the table does.”

Two very loud, ‘But mooooom’-s echoed from down the hall as she dragged both back to wherever they were supposed to be before they escaped to the throne room.

“You’ll have to pardon us, we have five girls and two of them are quite young and excitable. How about we show you to your rooms?”

The three of you nodded thankfully as he stood and, followed by his two guards, picked up yours and Wanda’s luggage and walked down the hall. He positively towered over you. The three of you followed him.

If the Golden City of Wakanda proper was ostentatious from centuries of wealth and rich living, the Jabari building style was the ‘Scandinavian minimalism” of Wakanda, minus all the white. Natural woods were emphasized; bright colors were sparse in the halls, letting the natural browns and greys of the woods shine. Everything was much more sleek than you would have expected, and it seemed like there was a tradition of abstract art, or at least, art that you weren’t immediately able to identify the subject. Their sculpting style seemed almost modern to you. That was, except for the gorilla statues dotting the hallways, every carving speaking to strength and stability.

M’Baku stopped in front of the doors to a room. “Wanda, this is your room.”

Wanda thanked him, took her luggage and walked into her room and closed the door behind her.

He walked two doors down before turning back to you and Loki. “Loki, Y/N, this is your room.”

Loki took your bag from him and you opened the door.

The room was beautiful. It was sleek and minimalist, yes, but it still retained a sense of warmth which wasn’t just from the fireplace that already had a fire in it.

You smiled at him. “Thank you.”

He returned the smile. “You’re a little early, so dinner will be in four hours. You may wander around or keep to your room if that is your choice.”

“Is it formal?”

He straightened up. “Or course it is formal, you’re having dinner with a tribal leader.”

“Then we’ll be sure to dress up. See you then”

He turned to walk down the hall, and to presumably tell Wanda the same.

Loki put your luggage on the bed and walked over to the fire and poked it with the poker. “So uh, what did you think of M’Baku?”

“He was uh…” you thought a moment, “tall. He laughed a lot.”

Loki was quiet as he kept poking at the logs and stoking the flames.

“And _what a face._ ”

“I know, right?” Loki asked passionately as he spun around.

“What?” You asked as you laughed.

“What? He’s tall and handsome as hell!”

You continued laughing. You had figured long ago – before the conversation about The Grandmaster – that a man who was as self-assured as Loki was couldn’t possibly be straight. Maybe it was because you had only ever known one straight man who was as self-assured as he was (it was your father and you were pretty sure that it was the only reason that your parents were the only ones on your childhood street who weren’t divorced).

Some weird part of your dumb little brain had always thought that maybe the conversation would be serious with him sitting you down and hemming and hawing for a few minutes, not knowing what to say until he finally spilled the beans in an effusive, ‘I’m bi!’ not a sudden admission of how hot a guy you both just met was.

Then you remembered your bi-awakening at seeing Queen Nakia’s face and realized how dumb your ‘dumb little brain’ really was.

“Do you want to make a try for him? I think his wife might have something to say about it.” You laughed again, “Then again, I have a feeling he might be _super straight_.”

Loki laughed. “I mean, no. I might be pansexual but I’m boringly monogamous most of the time. Excepting my, what did you call it? 'Ho phase', on Sakaar?”

You chuckled and sat on the edge of the bed. “Everyone has a Ho Phase. And I mean, I don’t think that I would call what we’ve done so far to be ‘boring.’”

Loki put the poker back on the rack of fireplace implements and walked over to you, smiling slyly. “I wouldn’t say I’m boring in _that_ sense. But when I decide on someone, I like to focus all of my attention on them.”

“I have your attention?”

“You could be wearing a burlap sack and telling me about the creation of calculus and I would still be rapt.” He kneeled on the floor, both hands on your knees. “That day you walked past me in New York – I don’t know how to describe it – time slowed down and yet I was acutely aware that only a second or two had gone by. Everything else became inconsequential when I saw you. You were the only other being on the planet. I pity my poor brother who was halfway through a sentence when I saw you.”

You laughed. “What _was_ he talking to you about?”

“I still have no idea. I saw you, checked out of the conversation, and knew I had to follow you.”

You leaned down to him and whispered, “Can I be _very_ honest with you?”

He nodded slowly.

“I was hoping you would.” You stood and pretended to busy yourself as you took clothes out of your suitcase.

He gasped quietly. “You /wanted/ me to follow you? I saw you look at me, but I wasn’t sure if you really noticed me.”

“A pale man with black hair, a black suit, and sky-blue eyes? Tall dark and handsome? Of course, I saw you. Someone nose deep in their phone would have still seen you, standing on the street corner looking like a goth _snacc_ like you were.”

He gasped incredulously again. “And you walked across the street like you didn’t even see me? You little liar!”

“Oh, I believe I made it known that I had seen you. We did lock eyes, after all.”

“We did.”

“I was wearing a great outfit and living only for me. I didn’t owe _anyone_ anything that day.’

He moved closer. “You didn’t. You were just some… goddess incarnate.”

“Are you going to ‘worship’ me again?” You asked with a raised brow.

He laughed. “No.”

Your smile dropped.

“I’m actually a little annoyed that you saw me see you and just walked right on by.”

“Oh no,” you said sarcastically. “What are you going to do, _daddy_? Punish me?”

The fiery glint in his eye at your joking was your only answer.

You laughed nervously.

He sat on the edge of the bed. “Take off your clothes.”

“Mr, Fashionista wants my clothes off? _Scandal_.” You pronounced the last word in a dramatic French accent.

“You're only adding to what you're about to get,” he smiled wolfishly.

“Oh?” You countered, straightening yourself up and looming over him. A rare occurrence.

His very smile dripped molten heat from all the things he looked like he wanted to do to you. “I mean, if you want it.”

“I want it.”

“Are you sure?” he asked as his wound his fingers through your hair and pulled your ear close to his lips, “Because you're about to have a very sore rump. I would hate to cause you pain when you don't want it.”

You pulled back enough so you could smile at him, and ghost your lips across his. “You could never cause me real pain. I know enough of you to know that.”

He smiled back. “I've never asked: do you like pain mixed with pleasure?”

“I never trusted anyone enough to find out. But… I like the idea, and I trust you… what do you want to do to me?”

He was flustered now, ever so slightly, and he was so cute while being so. “I was thinking…”

You raised your eyebrows.

“Of spanking you.”

You smiled. “Are we about to start a ‘scene?’”

If he could have taken a respectful half-step back, he would have. “Only if you want to.”

“I was just clarifying.” You laughed nervously. Not out of a feeling of fear, but out of a feeling of, ‘Holy shit, _this is going to happen_ ,’ giddiness.

Your feelings for him had solidified in the past few weeks. You could never have anything to fear from him. He would never intentionally put you in harm's way. You trusted him. You might even love him… even if you didn't have the balls to say it out loud just yet.

“Are you in charge?” You asked.

He nodded, anticipating your reaction.

You mirrored his nodding. “Alright, then tell me what to do.”

He patted the mattress next to him before you interrupted.

“—But, I believe the custom during a scene is to have safe words.”

“So I’ve heard.”

“Red means stop, green means go, yellow means…” you thought about traffic light meanings for a half second, not what you thought you would be thinking about, “slow down, I guess. So we can reassess what’s happening.”

“Space to think.”

“Exactly.”

“I like it. Very clear cut.”

You stood, back stiffened by a pretend sense of modesty. “Should I call you Master?”

Loki laughed a quiet laugh. “I don’t think we need to go that far.”

You laughed.

“Why don’t you take off your pants and underwear, and lay across my lap?”

“Is that a command?” You asked, wondering if it was too early to push him.

His smile seemed to snake across his teeth before he pressed his lips into a practiced grin. “It is. Take off your shoes, socks, pants, and underwear.”

You did as you were told.

“Come here.”

You stood in front of him, he reached up under your shirt and his warm touch in the cool mountain air felt like sitting in front of a fire after playing out in the snow for hours as a kid, warm and familiar all at once. He spun you around and caressed your bum for a few moments, and you craned your head to see what he was doing.

“Did I say you were allowed to look?” He asked firmly.

“Sorry, sir.”

At the ‘sir,’ he squeezed both of your asscheeks in his strong hands.

“Now, lay across my lap.”

You did as you were told.

“Remember, as you said: Red is stop, green is go, yellow is to slow down.”

“Yes.” You said. You didn’t know what else to say. You just wanted him to spank you.

Surprising, was what that first slap was. You expected it, yes, but not the intensity or the exact timing, the second his hand hovered in the air, a drawn moment, time artificially lengthened by the wait. The delightful terror of ‘ _when_?’

“Was that too hard?”

“No, sir.” You had no idea why you kept up with the ‘sir,’ it just seemed dirtier in your base, lizard brain that was trying to get you dominated and fucked, but he didn’t seem to mind.

As his hand clapped down hard against your skin a second time you jumped, trying to sooth your mind into knowing that this was what you - all of your cells and all of your being – wanted. It wasn’t difficult, after the initial surprise the sting itself seemed to spread out into your nerves in a warm wash over your skin.

“Harder?” He asked.

“Yes.”

“’Yes?’” He repeated, wanting to know to _whom_ you were saying ‘Yes.’

_Oh, so he liked the ‘sir’ shit_? You thought. “Yes, _sir_.”

For a moment you were absolutely sure he smiled. And then his hand came down hard on your backside again, the rawness of your skin and the heat of his palm felt like a flame on the skin of your rear. You gasped in shock, the sharp intake of cold mountain air jolted through you like an electric current as the sting subsided and was replaced by the pleasant rush of blood to the area.

He smoothed his hand over your skin, the warmth adding another layer of pleasurable pain to the activity.

You turned to look at him, to see if he might be looking at you lovingly, only to be met by his fiery gaze. His eyes had even shifted to their reddened state.

“Did I say you were allowed to look?”

“No, sir.”

He raised his hand and you twitched. The moment that he would have brought it down, as the previous rhythm he had brought his hand down told you he might, was filled with nothing. A sort of anti-pain that was worse than the real thing. A nothingness that was increased by the expectation of anything.

Then, when you didn’t expect it, his hand slapped you across the asscheek, the sharp strike welcome and sweet against your reddening flesh as you fought the urge to cry out.

“Are you enjoying yourself?”

“Yes, sir,” you tried to sound more pleased than aroused, but you knew you didn’t succeed. Both of you knew that you could practically drown him in how wet you were at that moment.

Each time, _thwack, smack, thwap,_ only added to the feeling of delicious pain, the sweet submission of trust sinking into your skin as you knew you were safe with him. There was nothing to fear with him at the helm, and you gasped and panted and moaned with every delightful hit that he landed. The dopamine flooded your brain as the confused nature of your pain and pleasure centers fired side by side, the activity an overload of sensations.

The sweet flush of blood to the surface of your skin brought on a redness of arousal that you could feel but he could see. He slipped two fingers into your cunt and found how wet you were. The fluid dripped off his fingers as he pulled them out.

“Wow,” you heard him comment.

You turned and saw him dip both fingers into his mouth.

“Looks like I’m not the only one who needs to be punished,” you joked with a raised eyebrow.

He turned to you, eyes red, fingers trailing out of his mouth; he should have looked caught – he could have pretended to look like you caught him in the act of something dirty – but he didn’t. He just locked eyes with you as he plunged his fingers into you once more before pulling them out again and swirling your wetness all over your labia.

“You’re very wet. Dripping, in fact.”

“Yeah, because I like you. Shut the fuck up and drown,” you laughed. A tweet you would have to show him later.

His eyes widened as if you had made a grievous error. “Do you want another?”

“Yes, _sir_ ,” you said, perhaps too enthusiastically.

His hand came down right on your swollen, wet cunt, and it _hurt_. It stung, and by god it felt _amazing_.

He plunged his fingers back into your swollen cunt and pressed them against the front of your channel and you pulled the sheets into your fists as you shuddered. He pulled them out.

“Not yet.”

You were almost angry, but you settled for a whimper and waited for whatever was next.

He delivered several more blows; across both asscheeks and your cunt, the wetness almost channeling the sensation like it was heat. You moaned and gasped, wishing he would fuck you.

“Enough,” he seemed to read your mind. “Get on the bed on all fours.”

You did as you were told, shakey legs and all. Your body felt hysterical and you would have had to fight back tears if he didn’t finish you off soon.

You felt his hands on your hips as he pulled you back towards him and the head of his cock brushed across your swollen clit.

“Do you want to come?”

You whimpered as his cock brushed against your clit a second time. “Yes.”

“’Yes’ who?”

“Yes sir.”

“Green?” He asked.

You were glad he was really asking, although certain parts of your body were furious that he was delaying.

“ _Green_ ,” you said emphatically.

His width spread your swollen channel almost painfully as he pushed into you, but you found yourself not caring as you wanted, you _needed_ to come, and any moment of delay was like an insult to your very being. When the head of his cock stretched you open you nearly sobbed but covered the sound with a moan and pushed back into him.

Pretense over, he didn’t correct you, he merely took to pounding himself into you as hard as he could. This was his release as much as it was yours, and you bet that the minutes of having to look at your reddened flesh probably frustrated him nearly as much as it did you. He buried himself in you up to the hilt every time he pushed forward, making you gasp.

“Are you alright?”

“I’m more than alright,” a response that was delivered on some low note you didn’t know you could make.

Somewhere near a low E, maybe.

Out of the corner of your eye – as your head was now pressed up against the bed as you had quickly lost all ability to keep yourself propped up – you saw him smile to himself. That devil.

He continued his job as the arbiter of your pleasure, of both of your pleasure, as he went back to slamming his hips into you. You pressed your face into the bed in an effort to try and stifle your moans as you came. Exhausted, you looked back at him, the redness of his eyes undiminished.

“You—you didn’t—”

“Nope.” He smiled. He leaned over you as your knees buckled into the bed, and licked from your shoulder up to your ear.

If you hadn’t seen him do it, it wouldn’t have registered in your delirium.

“Now, that was very selfish of you to come without me,” you detected a giggle under his voice that he was trying to keep at bay. “Let’s try it again, and maybe you’ll learn to share.”

You started to laugh but were immediately distracted by the feeling of his cock against the front of your vagina. And to make matters worse – ‘worse’ – his fingers had, at some point, made their way to your clit.

You didn’t know what words you were saying as he fucked you like that, fingers furiously moving and the head of his cock pressing up against your cervix. It probably involved a few ‘oh, god’s, ‘right there’s, and ‘oh _fuck_ ’s as he brought you startlingly fast towards another orgasm.

He was so deep inside you it was like he was trying to become one with you, and when that thought crossed your mind, that he might already love you that much, you tumbled over the edge of orgasm like Alice falling ass over tea kettle into Wonderland. You could only imagine the slew of curse words that came out of your mouth at that point. You barely registered the ones coming out of his mouth as he tumbled down with you. You did, however, realize he had come when he collapsed on top of you.

At some point, your barely conscious brain registered that he pulled out of you and laid down next to you.

“We should set a timer,” you said, eyes already closed.

“So responsible,” he replied, his voice betrayed his exhaustion.

“No, hold on. I can do it, hold on.”

He laughed.

You managed to pick yourself up and drag yourself across the bed to your suitcase, where your phone was. You hit the home button and the screen came on. “That was _two hours_?” You asked incredulously.

“Are you surprised by my endurance?” He curled his arm to flex his bicep, but it didn’t look as impressive as he must have thought it did since he was still laying down and his eyes were closed.

You laughed. But you also wondered: what the hell happened to your sense of time?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Leave a comment if you liked it! :D
> 
> Also let me know if you want more of *ahem* the scenes as we see here, towards the end.


	19. Chapter 19

“How am I supposed to sit down like this?” You asked as you looked over your own shoulder in the mirror, both asscheeks red and bordering on bruised.

Loki smirked. “Delicately I suppose.”

You glared at him, half in jest and half in seriousness as his answer was not helpful.

He moved closer to you and kissed you on the forehead and chuckled. “I don’t have a better answer, but if it makes you feel better, I’ll be tortured all throughout the dinner knowing it’s causing you pain.”

You continued your glaring. “It’s not painful, it feels sore. And that makes it _so_ much better.”

He laughed. “The thought of that reddened rump aching under the pressure of your own weight,” he inhaled, long and sharp. “Torture.”

You rolled your eyes. “So what are you going to wear?”

He ‘hmm’ed to himself for a moment before waving his hand over his form. Not one to play against type, his suit was a deep emerald green with a repeating pattern of different types of moths embroidered onto it in a lighter shade of green. His pants were made of the same material. His shirt was black with an alternating matte/glossy pattern, and instead of a tie he wore several necklaces of different lengths, the top one having a glittering green amber pendant hanging from it.

You raised an eyebrow. “Not bad. Once again, if only all of us could do that.” You pulled out the red dress you had worn to the gala. Whatever bad memories you had associated with it were gone from the repeated washings you had given it. Not as if that did anything other than _physically_ clean it, but in your mind, it had purged it of all the bad memories.

‘Hmm,” Loki hummed as he put his hands in his pockets. “We should have gone shopping again before we left.”

“We didn’t really have time,” you reminded him.

“True.” He looked from the dress to you and smiled. “Put it on, I have just the thing to go with it.”

With an acute sense of anticipation, you proceeded to dress.

Loki sat on the modernist-inspired wooden chair.

“Are you watching me dress?”

He shrugged, playful smile on his face.

You shook your head, “Who’s the one who needs a spanking now?”

“Still you,” he continued to smile.

You shook your head again.

“Be sure to wear your hair up.”

You shot him another look and dressed. You did as he said and put your hair up and as you slid the dress on and looked in the mirror making sure it was on right, he stood and walked towards you.

“Ready?”

“I can’t imagine what you have this time.”

He smiled. “So… I may not look through Tumblr in search of what people say of me, but I do have one and I follow a few fashion blogs—”

“That explains so _much_!” You shouted and hit him.

He laughed. “Fine, yes. You don’t think I could be so fashion forward without having to _pay attention_ to earth fashion, do you?”

You folded your arms and smiled.

“Well, I saw something like this, and when I met you I knew I had to have it made. Cue a very confused jeweler.”

From the aether he pulled something that, at first looked like a mass of chains until he laid it on the bed and arranged it how it was supposed to look. It was a chain necklace, the complicated style where it incorporates a necklace, and the chains appear to drip down the shoulders. The necklace came up into a high collar that had, as a focal point, an ammonite that had opalized as it became a fossil and was now red with reflections of rainbow opalescence. Smaller fire opals in teardrop shapes hung from the bottom of the choker, and the chains themselves appeared to run from the front to the back of the body once it was adorned. The chains themselves were silver and glinted from the light from the fireplace.

“Do you like it?”

“Do you even have to ask?”

He smiled as he watched your face as you looked at it.

“You know, I’m starting to get the idea that you only asked me out so you had someone to play dress up with.”

He laughed. “I would be remiss if I didn’t agree. But it’s only because I wanted someone as beautiful as you to shower with gems and other exquisite pleasures for such a long time.”

You smiled and kissed him. “Like a spanking?”

He chuckled, “Like a spanking.”

You laughed. “Help me put it on.”

After a few moments of finagling you were wearing it. The chains looked like they could be made of a dark ice, melting from the heat of your skin as they appeared to drip off of you.

“Wow,” you whispered quietly as you looked in the mirror.

“Wow indeed,” he agreed and kissed the back of your neck. The sight of you was clearly going to his head again as his fingers slipped under one of the straps of your dress.

“Loki, someone is going to be here soon—”

A knock at the door proved you correct. Loki fixed your dress and answered it.

A tall gentleman who you recognized as one of the guards who had walked you and your party up to the palace earlier was at the door. Wanda was with him, and she waved once the door was open.

“I’m here to take you to the dining room.”

Loki nodded and held his hand out for you to take. You rifled through your bag for a moment for the shawl you knew you had and with it about your shoulders, you took his hand.

The three of you followed the guard on the walk to the dining room, the hallway not being nearly as long as the one in the palace in the Golden City. You were in the dining room soon enough where the table was nearly taken up by M’Baku, his wife, and their five daughters.

“Hello!” He said jovially and stood. “You’ve already met my wife Nailah--”

She smiled as he gestured to her. “Nice to see you again.”

“—And you’ve met my daughters Ayo and Folami—"

The two girls waved as they each were named and you waved back.

“—And these are my other daughters, Zuni, Ras, and Zola.”

The youngest of the three, Ras, waved. While the other two nodded in quiet affirmation.

“Now sit, sit. We can begin eating.”

He clapped his hands and the nearest servants sprung into action and retrieved the plates from the kitchen. This spread was different from the dinner in the Golden City. There were ample amounts of vegetables prepared in various ways, and several dishes that centered around fish.

“I hope you don’t mind, we are vegetarians,” M’Baku said as you, Loki, and Wanda looked at the various platters.

None of you made any protest.

You were curious though, “For religious reasons? Or…?” You trailed off as you handed your plate to Loki so he could put food from the platter near him on it.

“Our god, Ghekre – the white gorilla, wills that we should only eat what we can attain from the land.”

You nodded.

“You might notice that there is nowhere to pasture cattle or antelope on these mountain faces.”

“Not without many accidents, surely.”

M’Baku chuckled, “Many a goat, even, has fallen from these peaks so even they stay away.” He turned back to you, “We eat what we forage and what little grows here, we also fish, and these sustain us.”

“So it sounds… partly religious but with a true ecological basis.”

He nodded. “You could say that, yes. It would be foolish to try and grow things that could not grow here.”

You nodded and smiled. “Thank you for explaining.”

The fish dishes had all knocked you off your feet. You came to the conclusions that Americans – at least New York City restaurants – just had no idea how to cook fish. Instead of being overcooked, dry, and almost coarse on the tongue they were all juicy, filled with flavor, and melted like butter in your mouth. You wondered if you might be able to get one or two of the recipes before you left, but then wondered if there was even a point because you’d never be able to get fish as fresh unless you caught it yourself.

 

* * *

 

With so many children at the table the conversation naturally focused on things they cared more about. It turned out that all five had started going to the Golden City for half the week for school since their father and the king were now friends, and the youngest three were all eager to tell the newcomers what they were learning. Like earlier, Ayo and Folami were the most excitable and wanted to ask Loki more questions.

“Did you wear a spacesuit in space? Shuri told us about the NASA mission to the moon and how she wants Wakanda to be the first country to send someone back.” The words spilled out of Ayo like a torrent as her sister waited impatiently for her turn to speak.

“I never did, but our spaceships are much different than the ones from Earth. And that’s very honorable of her, I’m sure she could do it.”

“When _I_ grow up, I want to be the first woman and the first African woman and the first Wakandan on the moon!” Folami was practically shouting.

This started a small fight as Ayo yelled that she wanted to be first and then they began arguing.

“Hey!” Nailah shouted as she slammed her hand against the table. Having captured the girls’ attention, she shot them a look that said ‘you had better stop _right now_.’

“Sorry mom,” they both said and put their hands in their lap.

Loki began to regale them – see: _distract_ them for their mother’s sake – with a story from when he was on Sakaar.

You, having been seated to Nailah’s right, leaned in and whispered. “They’re filled with energy, aren’t they?”

She laughed quietly. “You have no idea. They have all of their father’s energy and none of his control.”

You followed her gaze as she looked at M’Baku, who was listening to Loki’s story and laughing along with his daughters. When he laughed, he laughed heartily, an open and honest kind of laughter. You could see what she meant.

“What about your other daughters? What have they been learning in school?”

She gestured to her second oldest daughter who sat between Wanda and the oldest, who was to her mother’s left.

“Ras has become interested in sculpture and has the makings of a great artist.” She gestured to her middle daughter who was sitting to M’Baku’s right and Wanda’s left. “Zuni in interested in history. She is nearly an expert already at telling a story and has the makings of one of the great Wakandan academics.”

You smiled.

“And Zola here,” hearing her name, the oldest daughter turned, “Is interested in sustainable agriculture.”

Zola nodded.

“To grow things on the mountains?” You asked.

“I’m interested in traditional techniques used in various parts of Africa that combat arid environments and prevent deforestation.”

You couldn’t help but look shocked. “How old are you?”

“Thirteen.”

“Wait,” you looked to Nailah, “How old are your other daughters?”

“Ras is eleven, Zuni is nine, Folami is seven, and Ayo is six.”

“Wow.” Considering her age, Zola’s answer had completely blown you away. “They’re all so decided for being so young. I’m an adult and I _still_ don’t have it together,” you laughed.

“I’m sure if you find something you like, you’ll be good at it,” Zola offered with a smile.

You thought about your weaving for a second. Kisani had said that you had picked it up quickly, and you were interested enough that it held your attention without you even having to try. Sure, it was an interest that was somewhat out of the ordinary for a capitalist society; if only because it was it something you liked doing not because it was something you definitely knew you could make money off of, and that was sort of weird for where you lived. The American model since the 1980s had been ‘live to work’ not ‘work to live’ as it seemed to be in other countries; anything that didn’t sacrifice life and limb in pursuit of the almighty dollar was immediately bizarre. But… you liked it. And you made the decision then and there to keep getting better at it. At the very least, maybe you could go into business for yourself and sell things ‘woven by Loki’s girlfriend’ as you were sure you had become known.

“I think that’s very correct,” you answered. “Enjoying something makes it that much easier to learn.”

She smiled and turned her attention back to her youngest sisters as they reacted loudly to a funny part of Loki’s story.

Nailah turned to you. “Might I just say that your necklace… chain… thing is beautiful.”

“To be fair, I’m not really sure what it’s called either,” you laughed softly. “I think ‘body chain’? But I could be wrong.”

She smiled. “Well, no matter the name, it is beautiful. May I ask where you got it? I thought M’Baku told me you worked in an office until recently.”

How strange to think that leaders in a far-off country were talking about you as if you were someone to talk about.

“Well I was, but I was assaulted by a client of my company, left the company, and sued him. So… yeah, I’ve only been jobless recently.”

Her expression became fierce, “I hope you destroyed that man.”

You smiled. “I don’t know if you could call it destroying him, but I did give a bunch of my court winnings to the other people he harassed so they could see justice as well.”

She smiled.

“Loki gave this to me,” you said as you touched the body chain.

“Ahh. A token of love?”

“Apparently he had a bunch of things made after we met,” you laughed. “He’s so weird.”

“He’s in love. It was plain to see when you first walked in.”

You blushed. You watched as he was now telling the girls and M’Baku a story about Asgard that they all seemed to think was great.

“Are we so obvious?” You laughed.

“My husband is a loving man, I know what a man looks like when he’s in love.”

You smiled. “I love your necklace too, by the way.” She was wearing a braided leather choker with raw pink-red stones in it. “Are those rubies?”

“Yes.” She touched the necklace briefly before smiling. “Good eye. They were found when one of the cave dwellings was excavated for living space many years ago.”

“They’re beautiful. I like the contrast between them and the leather, it really warms them up.”

“Thank you. M’Baku actually made it himself.”

“Did you say the caves?” Folami asked as she turned towards you and Nailah.

“I did mention the caves, darling, yes.”

Folami gasped and looked at Ayo who also gasped and hit her hands against the table.

“Ayo, we should take them to see the caves!”

“We should take them to see the caves! Mr. Loki, Ms. Y/N, Ms. Wanda, would you like to see the caves? Momma, can we take them to see the caves?”

Nailah sighed. “I suppose you can. Tomorrow.”

Folami hit her hands against the table again excitedly. “Yesss!!”

Ayo joined her in her effusions of happiness and hitting of the table.

“Both of you need to quiet down,” M’Baku said as he rubbed his temples.

“Sorry papa,” they apologized in sync.

“Where are we going to see caves?” Loki asked very quietly, hoping to lead them into responding quietly.

 

* * *

 

Somehow, you weren’t exactly sure how, it worked. Ayo and Folami spent the rest of the dinner excitedly telling Loki all about the caves in hushed tone, so quiet that you couldn’t make out what they were saying.

This followed all the way to the after-dinner entertainment, where several Jabari performed traditional dances while others played accompanied them with music. You sat in between Nailah and M’Baku who both towered over you even while sitting. Wanda sat to M’Baku’s left, and the three other daughters sat with each other. Loki was once again flanked by Ayo and Folami as he half paid attention to them and half paid attention to the dancers. He did at least manage to clap when everyone was clapping and had to implore them to clap as well.

M’Baku clapped at the end of one dance style and shook his head at his youngest daughters. “I don’t understand why they insist on bothering him.”

“I don’t think he’s bothered by them,” you replied. “Loki loves being the center of attention.”

“From what Thor tells me, he does,” he chuckled, “but they didn’t hang on Thor’s every word when he visited.”

“Remember dear,” Nailah interjected, “Thor wasn’t here for very long, and while he was they were hanging all over him!” She laughed and elbowed you in jest, “He was swinging them around and throwing them up into the air and catching them. He flew each one around the mountain a few times.”

“He was their plaything,” M’Baku laughed.

Wanda laughed softly from the other side of M’Baku. “Maybe… Thor has a big brother vibe but Loki has…”

“A boyfriend vibe?” You laughed. 

M’Baku laughed as well.

“He _is_ more well-dressed out of the two brothers,” Nailah added.

You nodded. “Every girl’s crazy ‘bout a sharp dressed man.”

Wanda giggled.

“So are just the two of them showing us the caves tomorrow?”

“No,” Nailah replied first. “I’m sending Zola with you, she knows the caves better, and two guards just in case.”

You nodded. “I would have been surprised if you let two small children lead a bunch of adults around.”

“They know their way around the caves, but they get distracted easily and want to look at everything so it would take the better part of the day.

You laughed quietly.

“I’m very serious. After the first time I sent their sister with them, she told me they ended up looking at rocks for almost an hour and talked about what it meant to exist.”

“Definitely our strangest children,” M’Baku said as he shook his head.

“They’re just interested in everything,” Nailah responded.

“They’ll be good scientists at least,” you offered. “Since they’re interested in everything.”

“They do have fun when they get to see Shuri.”

Nailah smiled. “I remember a time when you weren’t so fond of her.”

“Eh… I thought she was a child then.” Mbaku looked down at you, “I might have been rude to her because of her age, but it is clear to me now that she is more than capable of running all of Wakanda’s scientific interests.”

“You should make a formal apology,” Nailah pointed out.

“I thought I had. When we decided to let the girls take classes with her.”

Nailah looked at him with a raised brow.

You turned back to him and did the same.

He took on an appearance of pretend offense. “Fine, I will.”

Nailah laughed softly and he smiled at her.

Lovebirds.

Once the display of music and dancing was over, the dancers and musicians sat with all of you and answered questions about their performance, their costumes, and the instruments they used. Loki was finally able to extract himself from Ayo and Folami and made his way over to you, M’Baku, and Nailah.

“He returns,” M’Baku said. “I was wondering if I was going to have to set up a dowry for my youngest daughters.”

Loki laughed and shook his head before bringing a chair over and sitting across from you. “I have never felt old in my life, until I encountered those two. They would make someone their own age feel aged,” he laughed.

“Their energy is boundless,” Nailah commented. “Hopefully it will prove useful when they’re older and encounter the many hours a scientist must spend in the lab working on experiments.”

You nodded. “Energy means nothing without focus.”

“That’s very profound,” M’Baku said. “Now, Loki,” he turned, “is it you or your brother who is in charge of the Asgardians on Earth? Or do you share their governance?”

Loki took a drink off a platter a servant had brought around and handed one to you and took one for himself. “It’s a loose ruling between Thor, Heimdall, Valkyrie and myself. Heimdall is the defacto leader of the Asgardians here, while Thor, Valkyrie and I keep tabs on the ones in other parts of the world, depending on who’s not busy fighting off threats to the planet.”

“’Why have none come to live with us?’ is what my husband wants to ask,” Nailah said as she too took a drink from the platter and handed it to M’Baku, and then took one for herself.

Loki laughed. “I believe many of them settled in the Scandinavian countries because of the cultural connections and greater freedoms, and then our second greatest settlement is Wakanda, due to the greater freedoms and wanting to live in a high technology environment. Perhaps it is the low-tech nature of the Jabari tribe that has kept them away.”

M’Baku thought to himself for a moment. “Perhaps we could ask Heimdall if they might want to have a holiday here. I think some of them might like it.”

“I don’t expect you to go and change inherent parts of your culture to induce them to live here, and I wouldn’t want you to. Strangely enough, quite a few countries in the rest of the world have begun to change their laws to lure Asgardians to their lands once the Scandinavian tech explosion was caused by Asgardian refugees. Nearly all talk about ‘illegals’ in Europe and the United States has been dropped, and countries that had slowly become more conservative in past years have seen an explosion of progressive thinking.”

“Is that why the UK dropped the very idea of the Brexit?” You asked. It had happened nearly overnight, no one spoke about it as if it were a shameful relative who had landed themselves in jail after becoming a neo-nazi.

“Yes, actually. If leaving the EU meant that Asgardian scientists wouldn’t work in the UK, then what point was there in leaving? I think that there’s an Asgardian who’s taken up residence in Scotland who’s going to run for office under the SNP.”

“Ooh, maybe they’ll finally leave the UK and become a Northern Country.”

“One can only hope,” Loki held his drink up as if to toast and the three of you did the same. “Why do you want Asgardians to move here so badly?”

M’Baku shrugged. “The Jabari are proud of our tradition but… as recent years have shown us, maybe being isolated isn’t the best thing. I am beginning to think that, we can keep our traditions and walk into the future with our heads held high, knowing that our people can be served by technology.”

“So…” you thought a moment, “like the Amish. Technology is good as long as it serves the people, the people shouldn’t serve it?”

M’Baku smiled widely at you. “Exactly.”

 

* * *

 

Later, Loki helped you off with the body chain, as it was nearly as complicated to get off as it was to get on. You took your hair down and took your dress off.

“Ayo and Folami just monopolized you the whole dinner, huh?” You asked, a question meant to point out how funny it was.

He laughed. “Kids love me, I'm not sure why.” He waved his hand and was instantly in his pjs, a green cotton tee with green and black pinstriped flannel pants.

“That's happened with other kids?”

“Yeah. Thor and I went to a hospital once to go talk to sick kids, and I somehow ended up with a crowd.”

You chuckled as you put on your pjs. “I’m surprised the nurses didn't mob either of you.”

“They were under strict instructions not to talk to us, I found out later.”

“Really?”

He nodded. “Apparently one of them ran a Thor/Loki fan blog and got the rest of them in trouble before we even got there. I think she said she was going to try and kiss both of us or something... or maybe get us to kiss each other? I’m not sure.”

You shook your head and climbed into bed. “I think that's assault any way you slice it.”

He nodded and joined you. “I might be a near god, but I’d still rather not be attacked by some crazed individual who thinks that I’ll fall in love with them if they could just kiss me once.”

“It was probably more for bragging rights. To say that she did it.”

“Probably.” He cuddled up next to you and chuckled.

“What?”

“How’s your rear? We forgot to look at it before we got into bed.” His hand skirted over one of your asscheeks.

“It still stings a bit but sitting on it all night wasn’t that bad.”

“Hmm… maybe I should spank you harder next time.”

You laughed. “Maybe.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Leave a comment if you liked it! :D


	20. Chapter 20

The next morning you had breakfast early and then returned to your respective rooms to dress for your outing. Once you had met in one of the entryways, you could see that everyone aside from Loki was dressed warmly. The girls and the guards were dressed in traditional attire – thickly woven fabrics and furs – while you and Wanda were wearing modern coats, boots, and hats given to you by T'Challa. Loki wore a jacket that seemed made for utility, but was still fashionable, and it was still only the second most casual thing you had ever seen him wear.

Ayo, Folami, and Zola all carried what looked like large flashlights, Ayo's and Folami's being somewhat smaller and strapped across their body, and Zola's being larger and strapped to her back. Ayo and Folami each held one end of another light which had a weirdly blue cover across the bulb.

Ayo and Folami excitedly led the way holding onto their light while Zola walked with you, Wanda, and Loki, and the guards brought up the rear. Possibly the scariest thing you did was cross one of the long rope bridges across the gap between the peaks. You never had a fear of heights before, but it was enough to make you think that maybe you had a secret fear of them. The party moved slowly at this point as Zola kept chastising her sisters to be careful.

The new living quarters that had been fashioned out of the mountain was nice. You would never have guessed that it was inside a cave except for the lack of windows and because it was part of the mountain it was a crisp 50 degrees instead of the freezing temperatures outside; it felt positively warm with your jacket on.

The part that Ayo and Folami were most excited for, was the old cave tunnel.

They led your group lower and lower, until you reached a large chamber.

“Watch this,” Folami said as she and Ayo put their large light down and turned it on.

“Don't look into the light,” Zola warned.

It was a powerful blacklight, and the cavern immediately lit up in glowing pinks, oranges, yellows, and greens.

The three of you gasped.

Ayo and Folami started to babble excitedly about how it was called ‘fluorescence' and that it happened when the radiation of UV light – and all light was radiation – excites an electron in the atoms in the rock making it move up a valence shell – you vaguely remembered what that was from high school chemistry – the energy of the electron moving up makes it fluoresce light.

“And when you turn off the light--!” Ayo shouted happily and turned the light off.

The result was a dim glow reminiscent of those plastic star stickers kids could buy and decorate their ceiling with.

“They phosphoresce!” She shouted.

The three of you ‘ooh'd.

“Isn't that cool?” One of them yelled and you could hear jumping as their feet repeatedly hit the floor.

“Don't be loud,” Zola said. “We're in a cave. It's echoing.”

The jumping stopped and two small voices apologized.

“Do you want to show them the Queen’s chamber?”

Ayo turned her normal flashlight back on, her smile beaming about as brightly as the flashlight. “After the Ivory City.”

Zola smiled back, “Lead the way.”

Ayo held the light out and Folami grabbed its other handle.

As you continued the trek deeper into the cave, Ayo and Folami hurriedly told you everything they knew about how caves were made, with minor corrections from Zola when they spoke so fast that they screwed up their explanation. You were only able to take about half of it in they were speaking so quickly.

You reached a large chamber, the expanse retreating back and back from the light of the lamps into the inky darkness. It was impossible to see any of the structures that the two young girls had just told you existed here.

Zola took the large floodlight she had on her back and held it in front of her. “This is why we named it ‘The Ivory City.’” She turned the light on.

Like the return of the sun after an eclipse, the light of the flashlight blared into existence, and illuminated the whole cavern.

‘Wow,’ was the word that you, Loki, and Wanda all couldn't help but say as the stalactites, stalagmites, and columns lit up in an almost ghostly ivory glow.

“Doesn't it look like a city?” Folami asked, excitedly. “That one's the library--!” She pointed to a column only to have Ayo tell her that she was wrong and that _another_ column was the library instead.

The three of you and Zola laughed as Ayo and Folami spent a few minutes arguing before they appeared to figure out what structure was what part of the city in their fantasy world.

Loki leaned over and whispered to you, “You know, Asgard didn't have anything like this.”

“You didn't have caves or anything?”

He shook his head. “Asgard wasn’t round, it was flat and artificially created.”

You looked at him questioningly.

“Earth really is a beautiful planet.”

“Yeah, it is.”

“The city is run by a princess, who's really tall and really strong and really smart,” Ayo said.

“She's a just ruler who cares about her people and would give her life to defend them,” Folami nodded.

“She sounds wonderful,” Wanda said.

They both nodded.

“Do you want to see the Queen's Chamber now?” Ayo asked.

You all nodded.

As Ayo and Folami led the way out with their flashlight, Zola turned her floodlight off and put it back on her back.

You doubled back and took a different tunnel for a while until it suddenly opened above you.

“Woah,” you said, looking up. The ceiling of the chamber seemed non-existent, it went so high up.

Zola took her floodlight off and turned it on, flipping a switch that made the light into a narrow beam. “The ceiling goes up much the same way the king's chamber does in a pyramid.”

“That's why we named it the Queen's Chamber--” Folami said.

“We named it so it's ‘queen’ instead of ‘king,’” Ayo added.

“It's kind of cool to sit in here with no lights on. If you want,” Zola offered.

You looked to Loki and Wanda who shrugged and nodded. “Sure,” you said. “Should we sit down?”

Zola nodded and sat. “Everybody ready?”

Everyone sat, except the guards. You all nodded.

She turned the light off.

As soon as there was no light to illuminate the chamber you felt the cool sense of darkness close in around you. It was strange to not see anything, this wasn’t just the low light of turning off the lights in a kitchen or bedroom or even a moonless night under the stars, this was the complete absence of light, a total enveloping by the darkness.

“Ayo, stop poking me!” Folami yelled.

Your ears rang.

“Stop it, both of you!” Zola hissed. “I will march you right out of this cave and tell mom.”

You could hear the two girls settle down.

As the soundwaves from their outburst dispersed the ringing in your ears subsided. The darkness enveloped you once more and your senses searched for anything in the darkness. You wondered if this feeling was why ancient people painted all over caves during the stone age. They had to have started it because they were bored out of their minds. Or maybe… maybe it was a way to decorate them, to make the stone walls seem more alive. But that only mattered when there was light with which to see the cave walls.

If _you_ fell asleep in a dark room, _they_ fell asleep in pitch blackness. It was like looking into the fathomless night sky after all the stars had been shaken out of the cosmos, leaving the universe empty. You felt as if you were no longer in a cave, but floating in the vastness of space, a cosmic being outside of time and reality. You could practically feel your pupils stretch out as far as they could as they desperately tried to sense _any_ light. You raised one hand and waved it around in front of your face quietly, it was almost strange that you couldn’t see it when you knew it was there. Your brain could nearly picture it in front of your face, but there was nothing.

You suspected there were people who might be driven mad by the absence of light, feeling the dark around them like the crushing weight of a thousand tons of earth as it pressed the life out of them and brought on panic. But for you…

It was calming. Eldritch, in a way, but thoroughly calming. You wondered if this was what others meant when they ‘cleared their mind’ with meditation. Admittedly, that was never something you were able to do, your thoughts whizzed and bounced around inside your brain like so many bugs on a summer afternoon. It was like opening the Task Master on a computer to see that it wasn’t just Word that your computer was running when you had Word open, it was _everything else_ in the background that was also busy churning away and eating up disk space.

But the lack of light and noise in the cave… it felt like you were a baby, swaddled in blackness and calm.

“Is everyone ready for the light again?” Zola asked.

Everyone said yes. You weren’t but you didn’t want to protest.

The light turned on, at first faced at the floor, after a moment she raised it to illuminate the room. “What did you guys think?”

“It was a little spooky,” Wanda said.

“I liked it. It was strangely soothing,” you said as you turned to Loki.

He nodded.

“Are we ready to go back? We don't want to be late to dinner,” Zola added.

“Sure,” you smiled.

Ayo and Folami reluctantly followed behind her as she led the way out of the cave.

When you reached the living quarters everyone there greeted you again and you said your goodbyes. The rope bridge was somewhat less terrifying than it was the first time.

“Wanda, can’t you fly?” Loki asked from behind you.

“Yes?” She answered from in front of you, unsure.

“Then you don’t have to walk with us, why don’t you fly across?”

She turned to face him, looking past you. “It would be rude to fly off and leave you here,” she sounded almost hurt that he would suggest it.

“Thank you for walking with us when you don’t need to,” you said.

Wanda smiled, turned back around and kept walking.

You looked behind you and shot Loki a look which he replied to with a shrug before you too kept walking.

 

* * *

 

After a dinner, in which Ayo and Folami told their parents about everything they showed you in the living quarters and caves, you sat curled up by the fireplace in your pjs reading the book Kisani gave you while Loki showered. There were so many patterns you wanted to try once you were done with your first blanket, you didn’t know which one to try first.

There was one that appeared to give the weft a twisting look as if someone pinched the blanket in several places and turned it. There was another one that skipped rows in the weft that make it look like a stripe of lace had been added in the middle, and there was one that made it appear as if the many colors used were stabbing through each other. You thought that one might be the easiest to pull off.

Loki appeared in the doorway, a towel around his waist. “Bedtime reading?”

“It’s the book Kisani gave me. I’m thinking of maybe trying a traditional Scandinavian style blanket next.”

He waved his hand, his pajama pants appearing on him and kissed you on the head. “I’m sure it will look great. Come to bed?”

You smiled and placed the book back in your suitcase.

He stretched where he stood before getting under the covers. “I like staying with the Jabari, they keep the building just slightly chilly, it means we have a reason to cuddle.”

You shook your head with a laugh and turned off the light, and climbed under the covers as well. No sooner had you laid down than Loki draped an arm and a leg over you and pulled you close.

“I wonder if this is what a teddy bear feels like.”

“He laughed softly.”

You closed your eyes before opening them again, and looked at his face. Eyes already closed and ready to sleep, he looked comfortable and serene. Your mind felt restless.

“Loki?”

“Mhm?”

“Do you remember when you used that thing to freeze the… green alien guy?”

He sighed and opened his eyes. “We should have all agreed on a name for them before we left.”

“Do you remember?”

“Yes. It’s called the Casket of Ancient of Winters.”

“What was it?”

“It’s…” He hummed as he thought. “A relic of Jotunheim, my birthplace. It contains all the power of the worst and most terrible winters, and when opened it unleashes the biting frosty winds of Jotunheim itself, freezing anything unfortunate enough to be in its way.”

“Is that why your eyes became red and your skin started to turn blue when you held onto it? Because you’re really a Jotun?”

“…Yes.”

“Why didn’t you tell me about it when you told me everything else?”

“I had kind of forgotten I took it before my brother and I unleashed Surtur on Asgard.”

“What, you just took it on impulse?” You chuckled.

He shrugged. “I don’t know. It just made sense. I guess… if it really belongs to anyone at this point, that person would probably be me.”

You absorbed his answer. He was probably right. You guessed it was the only thing he actually had from his birth world, and the only non-human thing that remained from his adoptive world.

“But your eyes have also gone red when we’ve had sex…”

He was quiet as he thought.

“Normally… I mean, I’m guessing… When you’re really aroused.”

“You’re guessing?” He smiled.

“I don’t want to presume. But it happened when you came when we had sex the first time, when you were going down on me the second time, when you were spanking me the third time…”

He simply looked at you.

“When you, uh… licked my juices off your fingers that third time, that was pretty hot.”

He laughed softly. “Hmm.”

“What’s ‘hmm’?”

He chuckled. “There must be something about arousal. The sensation of orgasm, the exquisite bliss, the feelings of having no control but everything being okay.”

“What do you mean?” You giggled.

“I mean, I thought it was just the Casket that made me shed the – very powerful, I suppose – magic that kept me looking like an Asgardian for most of my life. That illusion had be put on me by Odin but, I seem to have some subconscious control over it, and… being intimate with you makes me lose that control.”

“Is that a bad thing?”

“I don’t know. I don’t think so. Though I suppose it means that I could lose control over it totally if something broke that control.”

“Would that be a bad thing?”

“It’s not like I’d grow ten heads and start spitting fire.”

You laughed.

“I can’t imagine how it would be bad. Though, it might change other people’s perception of me.”

You were quiet, you didn’t know what to say.

“Would you think of me any differently if I were a blue, red-eyed dude?”

Your eyebrows jumped in surprise.

“You would?”

“Sorry, I was surprised you just said ‘dude.’”

He laughed.

“No… I don’t think I would be. You’d still be you.”

You looked at him as best you could in the darkened room. You could just barely make out his eyes, though their blue was darkened by the lack of light, he was looking at you with love. He cuddled you closer.

“You’re really enjoying this room being chilly, huh?”

“I like holding you.”

You rolled over and he pulled you close.

“It _is_ comfortable.”

He pulled you closer to him, “Cuddling you is comfortable.” He pressed his lips to the back of your neck, letting them linger there for a few seconds before reiterating his point.

“Just--”

_kiss_

“So--”

_kiss_

“Comfortable.”

_kiss_

He hummed happily to himself.

You chuckled.

“Are you making fun of me?”

“I think it's cute that you’re getting all cozy.”

“It's hard not to when I'm holding onto you.”

Against your bum, you could feel that the rest of his body agreed.

“That's not the only thing that's hard, huh?”

He chuckled. “Sorry.”

“Why are you sorry?”

“I don’t know. We were having a nice moment and—part of me—ruined it.”

You chuckled quietly.

“You’re comfortable.”

“I am?”

“Being with you is. It’s like I knew you already. You’re easy to talk to, great to be around. It was like we were destined to be together.”

You were quiet as you thought.

“Don’t you think?”

“I think… do you think we would have met if we were never on the street at that time, on that day? It was so random. If I had gone to work that day like I was supposed to, like I did every other day for years… we never would have met.”

“Hmm… in another universe? I hope we would have. When I saw you it was like…” he was quiet for a few minutes. “I change my mind. We would have. It was going to happen. I was so drawn to you, there was no way it couldn’t happen. Even if we had met inside someone else’s dream and they woke up, we would have still found each other. In the real world.”

You extracted yourself from his embrace and turned around. Something like this needed to be said face to face. “You’re so sure of that…” You studied his features. You could barely see him in the dark, but as you traced your fingers over his face, you could tell he was relaxed, patient – his lips pressed against your thumb – loving.

“I am sure.”

“You’re so confident.”

“I am.”

You laughed quietly.

“I’m serious. I think we would have found each other even if we didn’t meet that day.”

“What makes you so sure?”

“Mmm…” his hands were on your face now, fingers tracing your jaw and smoothing over your cheeks.

You could see his eyes begin to emanate the familiar dull red glow, like garnets reflecting low light.

“Loki…” you whispered, admonishing him.

The way his eyelids slightly closed around his glowing irises told you he was smiling.

“I just think that I couldn’t have all these emotions for you and have our meeting be random. It has to be that it was destined to happen.”

He slid his thumb over your lips and you kissed it.

“You’re so important to me… I can’t imagine a universe where I don’t know you.”

You were glad he couldn’t see you just then. Your right eye, which was leaning against the pillow, had started tearing. You were sure it was from gravity, not emotion.

At least, that’s what you told yourself.

“Your eyes are red,” you said.

He laughed a low laugh. “Maybe I should learn how to disguise that.”

“Definitely more noticeable than a boner.”

“Oh?” He asked. His hands dipped under the blanket and you knew he was pushing his pajama pants off.  As he moved himself closer to you, his hardening cock gently pressing itself between your thighs.

“I like that you’re trying to prove me wrong,” you giggled.

He shrugged as best as one can when they’re lying on their side. “I mean, you’re normally right about things. But when you’re wrong,” the head of his cock, harder now, pressed into your thighs again, “you’re wrong.”

You reached under the blankets and pushed your pants and underwear off and kicked your feet out of them. As you did, he took off his shirt, so you took your own off as well.

“Is this just an elaborate joke about how big your dick is?” You laughed softly as you returned to how you had been laying with him

“Mmm… less a joke and more…” he reached down and pulled your uppermost legs up and over his hip so he could position himself at your entrance. He swirled the head of his cock around your labia, picking up the slickness there and spread it over your clit. “More like a fact.”

Your breath hitched in your throat for a moment as you enjoyed the heat and softness of his skin that betrayed the hardness underneath. “Oh?”

“Yes. A really _fun_ fact,” he began the arduous push into you. Slowly, his length slid into you, the glorious feeling of warmth stretched you as he pushed in further. He pulled you in closer as he pushed your jaw up with his nose, his lips finding your neck. He slowly covered your neck, collarbone, and the underside of your jaw in warm kisses.

Once he had finally slid all the way in, you both sighed.

“That’s a good fact,” you said, the feeling of his cock making your brain stupid.

He smiled against your skin and withdrew slowly until he was all of the way out with just the tip of the head at your entrance. “Is it?”

“Of course it is,” you laughed quietly. “If there were a test, I would remember it. And that’s saying a lot, I wasn’t a very good test taker.”

He touched his head to yours with a smile.

“What?”

“I want to watch you.”

He pushed into you again, slower this time.

Your eyes shut softly, the feeling of him pressing into you like the most sublime bliss. The kind of feeling that warmed your blood and made you happy from the inside out.

“Open your eyes.”

You did, and looked at him questioningly.

“I want to watch your face as I fuck you. I want your eyes on mine.”

“Why?”

He shrugged.

“Jealous that your eyes go red but I have no tell?”

He laughed softly as he bottomed out inside you. “Oh no, I think you have a tell. And I think it’s your eyes as well.”

“Because they close?”

“Maybe.”

“It’s just that—” your eyes nearly fluttered shut again as he started another slow pull out “—I think your dick makes my brain all stupid and then I can’t think… and my eyes close and I just feel it like pure emotion instead of analyzing anything. Like brains normally do when they’re not drunk or something.”

“Interesting.” He again pulled out all the way to your entrance and stayed there a moment.

You wondered how he could possibly be able to deal with the sensation so calmly, it had to be as agonizing for him as it was for you. He pumped the head in and out of you a few times before pushing himself all the way in, eliciting a low gasp from your lips.

You fought to keep your eyes open.

“Keep them open. I want to see you.”

“Freak,” you laughed breathlessly as he pulled out and pressed back into you, faster this time.

He smiled. “Maybe. But who’s the one who’s letting me do these things to her?”

“Are you—” he rocked your hips along with his thrusting as he picked up speed. You laughed hoarsely. “Are you saying I’m a freak as well?”

“I think you might have been this whole time and didn’t know it.”

“Are you saying you bring it out of me?”

“I’m saying,” he slammed his hips into you, “I put it into you.”

You laughed. “You ass.”

He laughed and returned to his spot at your neck, nibbling and kissing, before he sunk his teeth into your – as your weird brain suddenly remembered – trapezius, biting hard on the muscle and anchoring himself as his speed picked up.

You silently moaned, if such a thing could be done, and gripped him tightly as he plowed into you. Your eyes slammed shut and you dug your nails into his back, which only spurred him on faster, his thrusts hitting you powerfully and you blithely wondered if he might break your pelvis.

He slowed, and you opened your eyes to look at him. His were red, of course, and the effect of the magic that kept him in his Asgardian form seemed to be slipping from the area around his eyes as well. The scarification you swore you saw the day he held the Casket seemed to return to his face, arms, and upper body, although his skin still kept its alabaster pallor.

He pushed himself up and rose over you, picking up both your legs over his shoulders as he moved. He took notice of his arms and the lines that covered them.

“I like it,” you said, before he could say anything.

He smiled. He pressed himself into you again and you gasped. “Eyes open.”

“So I can see you as you really are?”

That was it. That was what he was having a hard time articulating.

The paleness of his skin suddenly gave way to the cool blue you remembered. He raised a hand and looked at his skin, the azure hue dark and warmed by the red tones of the firelight. He smiled down at you. “Does this bother you?”

“No. You’re still you.”

He smiled again, his eyes glossy as if he might tear up.

You reached up to him and pulled him towards you, his weight folding you up until your knees touched your shoulders. You kissed him.

As he pulled away he said, “You’re very flexible.”

You laughed quietly, “I guess so.”

He leaned back and licked his thumb.

You smiled with the anticipation.

His thumb found the sensitive bud, all the more so because of his teasing earlier, and circled around it slowly.

You groaned. “I’m going to die before you make me come.”

He laughed. “Is that so?”

“I might.”

“Well we don’t want that, now, do we?” He touched his thumb to your clit and circled it slowly. “I’ve heard the French call orgasm ‘Le petit mort,’ ‘the little death.’”

You moaned. “I’ve heard that too.”

“That’s the only dying you’ll be doing as long as I’m around.”

You giggled and he picked up speed. Your legs wrapped around his torso and held him into you, ready to cum, but he faltered.

“What?”

“Actually,” he stopped and then pushed your legs so your knees were together, back on one shoulder. “Is that uncomfortable?”

“No.”

“Hold your legs there while I fuck you.”

You giggled again and wrapped an arm around your legs, holding them put. He repositioned himself so he could thrust downward into you, and his wet thumb returned to your clit and redoubled its speed. You held onto your legs for dear life it seemed, and he put a hand on them for leverage. As his thrusts picked up speed and his thumb slicked over the sensitive nub over and over again, your breath shortened from the weight of your legs and most of his body weight.

He threw his head back to get his hair out of his face and leaned into your slowly for a moment before going back to his former speed, his hips bucking against your fleshy – and still a bit tender – asscheeks. Once that registered in your brain, you were done. Your orgasm seared through your muscles and you held onto your legs like you were holding on for dear life. Loki followed right behind you and collapsed on you out of exhaustion.

“Uh..” you began, as the position you were in suddenly felt very strange to you.

He lifted his head and looked at you, the blue of his skin slowly fading back to his pale color, a chuckle indicated he felt the same. He helped you lower your legs, the position resulting in cramping that you didn’t think was going to happen.

“Are you okay?”

You groaned and rubbed your hip. “I think this means I’m old now.”

He laughed softly and rubbed the spot for you. “You’re not old.”

“I’m elderly.”

“You’re not elderly.”

“I’m ancient. I’m _sixteen_ , I’m a _grandmother_.”

He laughed and lay down next to you, pulling the blankets over you both. “Then I guess that makes you my sugar momma.”

“Oh my god.”

He pulled you close to him. “Do you really think you’re old?” His brow creased.

“Not really. I didn’t expect that to be painful though. Maybe I need a hip replacement.”

“Oh no,” he laughed.

“Sweet young man, can you pay for my new hip?” You asked your best approximation of an elderly lady’s voice.

“Why am I paying for things if you’re the sugar momma?”

“I’m an American, I barely get anything from Medicare. Help me, you sweet, young, _rich_ man.”

He pulled you close to him and laughed softly. “Can I ask you something?”

“Sure.”

“Can we not joke about you getting old at all? I want to deal with everything as it comes. I want to enjoy time with young you before I get to enjoy time with old you.”

You felt your cheeks and neck flush. He pulled back.

“Please?”

His eyes were blue again.

In all the weirdness that you could have possibly felt in that moment – his change of eye and skin color, the accidental treading into the thought that you /will, one day,/ grow old and die while he takes millennia to do so – something about his clear blue eyes looking into yours felt strangely normal. Like you weren’t in a formerly hidden hyper-advanced African country that had only just revealed itself to the world a few years ago. Like you were two humans who had near the same life span who would grow old together. Like you were two normal, average, working class shmoes from back home who were laying in their bed in a house with a mortgage that was being paid off, and no one was an alien and nothing was weird.

The thought crossed your mind that maybe he was right: there was something weirdly familiar about how you felt when you were with him. Like the two of you were always meant to be there, in that bed, together.

“Does it make you sad if I bring it up? I was only kidding.”

“I know, and… it does a little. I just want to be here with you, now, wherever and whenever our current now is. I know what the future will eventually hold for us, and I want to enjoy every moment with you as long as possible.”

You smiled and smoothed your hand down his cheek. “That’s fair.”

He smiled sweetly. “Thank you.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Leave a comment if you like it! :)


	21. Chapter 21

The room was chilled from the early morning dip in temperature, and the early sunlight streamed into the room through the spaces in the curtains.

Because the light was radiating _directly_ into your eyes, you were immediately awake. You rolled over to your phone, turned it on, and checked the time.

_5am._

You sighed, knowing you would never be able to get back to sleep, and gently extracted yourself from under the covers. You walked to the fireplace and moved the embers around until they began to pick up again and placed another log on the fire, carefully making sure the new flames began to eat at it. You pulled your weaving book out of your suitcase, grabbed the spare blanket at the foot of the bed and wrapped it around yourself before you sat in the chair by the fire to read. The early morning light came through the curtains and illuminated the pages in a soft glow.

After some time – what you estimated to be an hour, but it wasn’t like you had any sense of how long any unit of time was – Loki began to stir. He stretched out under the blanket and reached for you, finding nothing. He sat up in bed and searched the room, finding you by the fireplace. He grabbed his pajama pants and put them on as he walked over.

“Couldn’t sleep?”

“The sun woke me up,” you smiled.

He yawned.

“You don’t have to be up if you don’t want to, go back to sleep.”

He shook his head. “The momentary terror of thinking something had happened to you jarred me awake. I’ll never get back to sleep.” He sat on the floor next to your legs and pulled a book from the aether, it was in a language you didn’t recognize.

“How many things do you actually have hidden away?”

He smiled and leaned against your knee as he opened the book. “Have you seen the movie Mary Poppins?”

“Of course.”

“Peter made me watch it so I could understand a reference he made which was, ‘The way you pull things out of nothing is like Mary Poppins pulling everything out of her bag.’”

You chuckled quietly.

“After I watched the movie, I felt it was fairly apt.”

“Except that you don’t have to wander around with a big carpet bag.”

“Is that what they’re called?”

You nodded.

“Hmm. Who would make a bag out of a rug? Anyway, I can store near infinite items and retrieve them whenever I want.

“’Near infinite’?” You raised an eyebrow.

He laughed. “Well I’ve never tried to see what the maximum amount of… cubic space I guess, it could hold.”

“You’re a wizard, Harry.”

“I prefer sorcerer. And Peter made me watch that too.”

“Well excuse me, Prince of Asgard.”

He chuckled gently.

The two of you sat for some time each reading your own book before he spoke again.

“So why Scandinavian weaving?” He asked with a smile. “Are you trying to impress me?”

You laughed softly and closed your book. The truth had to come out at some point.

“So…” you started as you thought for a moment, “I would like to answer that question by answering a question you asked me a long time ago, if I can.”

He turned towards you and rested his head on your knee like a child ready for a story. “Go ahead.”

“So, on our picnic you asked me what I did my masters degree in.”

He nodded. “I remember.”

“I told you it didn’t matter at the time but… It was in folklore and mythology, specifically Ancient Norse and Scandinavian folklore and mythology.”

He looked at you for a moment, expressionless, before bursting out into laughter. “Are you serious? You can’t be serious!” He leaned back and fell over onto his side as he laughed. “There’s no way your serious.”

“I am! Stop laughing! I am!”

“Okay, okay,” he wiped a tear from his eye and sat up straight again, “I’m not laughing at you, I would never laugh at you unless you were trying to be funny. But what are the odds of that?”

“I know, I thought it was _fucking_ weird when you told me who you were and I was like, ‘Oh my god, I can’t tell him what my degree was in! He’ll think I’m a plant or something!’ I mean, I didn’t want you to think like I was a stalker and _trying_ to seduce you or something creepy and weird and lying about not knowing who you were, I genuinely did not know who you were.”

Loki chuckled and rested his hands on your knees. “Hey, hey, hey… we’ve known each other what? A month or two at this point? I don’t think that you’re some kind of real-life Catfish, I probably wouldn’t have thought you were if you told me then.”

“It was just _too_ weird.”

“I—yeah, the odds have to be pretty low on that one.”

You nodded.

“Probably higher if you were a Swede and we met in Sweden while my brother and I were visiting the other Asgardians.”

“That goes without saying, but meeting probably the _only_ Ancient Norse folklorist in a ten-mile radius in Manhattan by complete, sheer accident? That’s too much.”

He nodded. “So was weaving part of your degree since you seem so interested in it?”

“My dissertation was on weaving in myth; how most weaving deities are goddesses, how they mostly seem to be associated with war as well, and how weaving and textiles are used to describe things like…  the three fates who spin ‘the thread of life’ and cut the thread when that life has ended, or how the temple of an Egyptian weaving goddess was said to be the threshold to another world, or how weaving is used to change reality in a practical way like when Penelope unraveled what she had done all day to stave off her new suitors after telling them she’d marry one of them when it was finished. There are all kinds of intersections between weaving and life or time or fate, so… that’s what I wrote about.”

“I’d like to read it sometime, if I may.”

“It’s in my apartment somewhere, hopefully I can find it when we get back.”

Loki smiled and planted a kiss on your knee before leaning back against your legs again. “You know, I’ve thought of writing a book before.”

You ran your fingers through his hair gently. “Oh? About what?”

He hummed in contentment. “Mmm, I’m not sure. It seems like all famous earthlings write a ‘tell-all’ book, I could do that.”

“’What to Expect When You’re Expecting to Take Over the Earth?’”

He chuckled quietly.

“Oh, how about ‘The Art of Faking Your Death by A Seasoned Expert?’”

He laughed. “Or, ‘Conquering Your Foes and Looking Good Doing It?’”

“You should create a menswear line and _then_ write that book. The theming would be so much better.”

He laughed again. He put his book back in the aether and turned to face you. “What would I do without you, you strange little Midgardian? Who would help me think up titles for books that will never get written?”

“I think you could write them. I mean, most famous people hire a ghostwriter anyway.”

He eyeballed you for a moment.

“That doesn’t mean that a ghost writes their book for them,” you said flatly.

He _tsk’d_. “It would have been amusing if it did.”

“It means they talk to a professional writer and tell them about their lives, and then the writer writes the book.”

He frowned. “No, I’d want to write all of it myself.”

“Well... I’m sure you could easily find a publishing house willing to take you up your offer. Who _wouldn’t_ jump at the chance to get a deal with the guy who once tried to take over the earth and then became an Avenger? Everyone loves a redemption arc.”

He chuckled. “What about you? Why don’t you publish your dissertation?”

“I had. It’s the only research I had ever done. Office life doesn’t leave a lot of spare time.”

He patted your knees firmly. “Well, you have plenty of time now, why not get back into it? You have enough money that you can do what makes you happy.”

“That _is_ true. I was thinking of maybe weaving blankets and opening an online store. I’m sure being your girlfriend would help sales,” you laughed.

“I will lend my name to anything you do, no matter what it is.”

“I don’t want to be known just as ‘the girlfriend of the God of Mischief’ though.”

“Of course.”

“I want to make a name for myself, and not be in your shadow.”

You froze.

You realized after the words escaped your lips that you had just said something very similar to how he described his feelings towards his brother when he told you his life story weeks ago. You hadn’t meant to phrase it like that, you just meant that you wanted to be known for things _you_ did, not what _he_ did, as so many women happen to be remembered by history. Marie Curie was the superior scientist, Mary Shelly was the superior writer, while you loved them and the strides they made for humanity, their respective fields, and womankind, you didn’t want to be like them; their memory languishing in the darkness of their spouse for so many years while they themselves became semi-forgotten, the recording of their accomplishments almost entirely contingent on their gender.

The world was stupid.

But you hadn’t meant to antagonize him.

“If there’s anyone who knows anything about trying to escape the shadow of another, it’s me. I would never want you to feel like my fame, my recognition, was somehow suffocating you and keeping you from your own.”

You smiled.

So did he.

“I’m sure we can find a quiet way for me to help you out at first. Oh, perhaps my brother and I can model your blankets, but our faces would be slightly obscured making people wonder if it really was us or if you had hired models who suspiciously looked like us.”

You thought a moment. “I’m not _exactly_ sure how that helps, but seeing everyone freak out trying to figure if it was you or not would be pretty funny.”

You both laughed.

He held onto your knees for a moment before leaning his head on them. “I just want you to be happy, and feel like you mean something.”

You nodded. “So, what will your first book be about?”

He thought for a moment before picking his head back up. “Well, lots of people on Sakaar thought my stories about when I had Thor exiled and when I fell off the Bifrost were interesting. I could write about that.”

“That really would be a tell all.”

“I could call it ‘Letting Go: Coming to Terms with Who You Are.’”

“That sounds like a self-help book.”

“Hm, I guess it almost could be. I could have used a self-help book at the time.”

“Maybe you could become a motivational speaker.”

“Oh _no_. Tony made me watch Tony Robbins once, absolutely terrifying.”

You laughed. “Why did he make you watch that?”

“He made a joke and, well, Peter was too young to get it and I was too—”

“An alien?’”

“Basically. So he made us watch it and I just—why do you humans like him?”

“I would have no idea since I, personally, think self-help and motivational stuff is _weird_. Like, I’ve never actually been motivated by motivational speakers.”

“I don’t understand how anyone can be. How can telling someone to be happy make them happy?”

“They used to bring one in every year when I was in grade school, it was always weird.”

He shook his head.

“I suppose some people just… like being led? I mean, hey, your family came here and started their own religion, so you should know a thing or two about it.”

He shrugged. “I suppose that’s a fair criticism. I don’t know why they accepted us so quickly.” A thought dawned on him, “Has my existence now completely changed everything about Ancient Norse history?”

“Annoyingly, yes. I had old college chums emailing me about it once you and your brother became known. You’ve created a lot of work. There’s a lot of ‘death of the author’ style discussions about Norse myth now. But… ‘death of the god’ I guess?”

“I thought you didn’t know who I was?”

“No, I knew you existed, but I had no idea what you looked like. I tend to not watch regular news.”

“Ah, well... sorry,” he chuckled. “The thought that being here would change all of that hadn’t even occurred to me—”

Your phone began to buzz on the nightstand and so you got up and picked it up. “It’s Shuri,” you said as you answered it. “Hello?”

Loki stood and joined you, sitting on the bed.

“I need you guys to come back today, I might have hit on something in trying to break into the ship’s computer and I need Loki to see if anything looks familiar to him,” she sounded like she was barely able to contain her excitement over the prospect of having figured out something that had been eluding her for so long

“Okay. When’s the soonest you need us back?”

“She needs us back? What happened?” Loki asked.

You shushed him.

“Would you be ready if the ship got there after lunch? I hate to cut your visit to the Jabari short, but I really want him to look at this as soon as possible.”

“No, don’t worry about it. After lunch should be okay. I’ll ask Wanda when she wakes up and get back to you?”

Shuri got quiet for a moment before erupting into apologizes, “I’m so sorry! I didn’t realize what time it was! I don’t have a normal sleep schedule when I’m working on something big and—”

“No, no,” you laughed, “Don’t worry about it, we were already awake.”

“You’re not lying to make me feel better?”

“I’d never lie to you Shuri. Scout’s honor.”

She laughed. “As long as I didn’t wake you up. Okay, so I’ll see you all later?”

“Most likely.”

“Alright, bye.”

You put the phone back on the nightstand. “I’m surprised she didn’t ask me what ‘scout’s honor’ meant.”

“Peter told me that last time he visited he brought a bunch of Girl Scout Cookies with him. She should know what it means.”

“Oh _no_ , bringing Girl Scout cookies to a country that has never experienced them before? The entirety of Wakanda is going to become _addicted_ to them.”

“They are _very_ good.”

You nodded passionately. And then you remembered that the only way you got them was through Maria, a now ex-coworker who had two daughters who were both in the Girl Scouts. _Shit_ , where were you supposed to get them from now? You supposed you’d have to ask Peter who his dealer—uh, the name of the lovely young lady he knew who possessed a fine entrepreneurial sprit and also had the Girl Scouts cookie catalog and order forms.

Who _the fuck_ were you kidding? You didn’t need a fucking catalog, you already knew exactly how many boxes of what you wanted, it wasn’t as if their line ups changed that often anyway. Though you were _shook_ when the S’Mores first came out. Such genius, such grace, such ingenuity; the ability to carry all the fun of a campfire s'more in one’s bag for lunch.

Or several.

Or almost a dozen.

Okay, _fine_ , you had eaten the entire box when you first opened it. But you had thought ahead and bought one extra box for just such a momentary lapse in self-control. That box was still half-eaten and you were very proud of yourself for your restraint.

The only way they could have been improved was if the cookie part itself was actually a graham cracker. Such oversight. Still, 8/10. They were marvelous. Change the cookie then it would become iconic.

You picked up your phone and sent Peter a text asking him where he got his goods from. ‘Fortune favors the early bird who made in-roads to getting the cookies early,’ or _something like that_. You could only think about the delicious Samoas and S’Mores now and nothing else.

Loki cleared his throat.

You had been vaguely aware that he was looking at you the entire time you were thinking about cookies but chose to ignore him.

“So uh…” he trailed off as you furiously typed out a long text to Peter about the cookies. “Are you actually texting Peter about Girl Scout cookies right now?”

_WHO IS YOUR DEALER, SPIDER-BOY??_ Your text started, knowing he'd have no idea what you were talking about and _have_ to text you back.

You looked at him like a deer in the headlights. “ _No_. But also, _yes_.”

He laughed. “Are you going to tell me what Shuri said?”

“One second.” Your screaming message sent, you turned back to Loki, “She said she wants us to come back after lunch because she did something to the ship’s computer and wants you to look at something.”

He looked at you for a moment before narrowing his eyes. “Are those two ‘somethings’ there because you’ve already forgotten what she said because you were thinking about cookies?”

You widened your eyes spookily. “Time, being, everything is immaterial. Nothing matters. Existence is a vast and meaningless void. There is no good, nor evil. There is only… the _Cookie_.”

He burst out laughing.

_Let him laugh. One day he would see. They would all see._

You stared at him like a brainwashed cultist for a few more seconds before relaxing and laughing. “I mean, yeah, I forgot the parts that one might call ‘important,’” you added air quotes for emphasis as you poo-pooed the idea in jest, “but the important part is that she’s sending the ship to pick us up after lunch.”

“Why after lunch?”

“She felt bad that she was cutting our visit short. Also, I think she was up all night working on it. Maybe she plans on taking a nap.”

Loki nodded. “She’s no good to anyone if she’s tired.”

“Mhm.”

Loki flipped your phone over and looked at the time. 7am. “Shall we get some breakfast?”

“Sure,” you put on some socks and a hoodie so you didn’t have to change out of your pjs. Loki donned a shirt and the two of you went to the larder to scrounge for some breakfast.

Because they didn’t believe in using the technology that the rest of Wakanda used – or indeed, it seemed, any technology (they must have a very small carbon footprint) - the Jabari used a system of below-ground root cellars and above-ground larders to preserve their food. Being in a mountain system that had snow for most of the year, as you learned at dinner yesterday when Ayo and Folami managed to be quiet for long enough that Zuni could explain it to you, they were able to use the abundant snow to cool or even freeze their goods. Due to this advantage and the system derived from it, they had no use for refrigerators or freezers, as they basically had the natural version of both.

You and Loki made your way down to the kitchen, hand in hand, and walked through into the larder. You found some cold fish marinated in herbs, a flat kind of bread that – from the smell – appeared to made from teff, and what seemed to be an onion-based stew that was nearly thick as paste that you remembered having during the dinner the first night. As you and Loki scavenged, you hadn’t realized that someone else had walked into the room.

“Ahem,” a deep voice said.

Both of you looked up. It was M’Baku dressed in what you expected to be the Jabari equivalent of a bathrobe and fuzzy slippers, leaning against the doorframe.

“It appears that some hyenas have gotten into our kitchen.”

“Sorry,” the two of you apologized at the same time.

“We were hoping to get some breakfast without bothering anyone else,” Loki said.

“With the wooden walls noise tends to radiate down the halls. I heard you walk by my and my wife’s bedroom.”

You laughed softly, “Sorry.”

“If it’s breakfast you want, I can make you a traditional Jabari breakfast.”

“You don’t have to.”

“I’m the leader of the Jabari, I can do whatever I want. And I prefer to take care of my guests. Now,” he picked up a large pot and placed it on the counter. “We take some cracked barley,” he began as he picked up an unlabeled sack of wheat. You figured that everyone must just remember what is what because none of the bags, jars, and earthenware containers had any labels on them. You wondered what it was like to have such a memory for small things. He poured out a sizeable amount of barley into a pot. “We add milk enough to cover,” he did just that, “and we boil it until it is soft.” He continued his lesson as he lit a fire in the stove and moved the pot over it, “Then, when it has softened and most of the water in the milk has boiled off we will add nit'ir qibe, a spiced butter, and that will give it the flavor that will make you wish you ate it every day.”

You and Loki both smiled.

M’Baku stoked the fire until he was satisfied and then folded his arms and leaned back against the adjacent counter. “So, how have you two been enjoying your stay?”

“We love it here,” you admitted. “The views of the valley are gorgeous; the snow is beautiful. Loki is excited that you guys have snow all year round.”

Loki laughed. “I am. My birthplace was… well, a desolate frigid hellscape. The mountains here are nice. Warmer and more inviting but still maintaining their…” he trailed off as he thought of the word.

“The idea that they might kill you?” M’Baku offered.

“Yes, I believe that’s it,” Loki smiled. “Beautiful, dangerous, and beautifully dangerous.”

M’Baku smiled. “I wouldn’t want to live anywhere else for just that reason.”

“It’s very romantic in a ‘Scottish moors’ kind of way,” you added.

“Why do you think Nailah and I have so many kids?” He asked with a knowing smile before turning to the stove and stirring the pot.

You and Loki smiled at each other.

“So what would you two like to do today? Ras can show you her sculptures or Zuni can regale you with the history of the Jabari people.”

“I’m sorry,” Loki said, “but we got a call a few minutes ago from Shuri that she managed to get somewhere with the ship’s computer and wanted us to come back.”

“Ahh, is that why I found you sneaking around the kitchen?” He smiled.

“She’s sending the plane so it arrives after lunch, we probably have time for both of those things, actually,” you offered. “I think it would be sad to leave without spending at least a little more time with your family.”

M’Baku smiled. “Yes, I think so as well. Especially since they did not join the cave excursion yesterday, they came to my wife and I and told us they were sad they hadn’t gotten to spend time with the guests since Ayo and Folami monopolized all your time.”

“They are, uhh—”

“Trying?” He asked.

“I was going to say ‘exuberant,’ or possibly ‘overactive.’”

He chuckled. “They require a certain amount of understanding and guidance to properly…” he thought for the right word.

“Corral?” You asked.

“That’s a good word for it.”

You and Loki had a pleasant conversation with him for a while and were then joined by Nailah, who was looking for her husband, and then Wanda, who had investigated the noise.

Eventually you were joined by the children, and Ayo and Folami loudly demanded to know why their parents got to hang out with the guests while they were still asleep.

“You’re yelling at me, girls?” M’Baku asked with a severe look.

They both laughed, a mixture of nervousness and excitement at his expression. 

He handed the large wooden spoon to Nailah, who stirred the pot again, and walked towards his two youngest daughters in a menacing way. “If you talk to me that way, I’ll… Put you in the pot!” He reached them in one stride and scooped Ayo up, and held her near the pot pretending to drop her in.

Ayo squealed and laughed and Folami hit his legs to get him to drop her.

Nailah tried to push them away from the pot. “My sweet, don’t dangle our youngest over the pot, you’re going to get things in the food.”

“I guess I’m just going to have to eat her raw then!” He loudly pretended to eat her as she screamed with glee. “And her sister!” He spun around and scooped Folami up with one hand and pretended to eat her as well, making noises as if he were sloppily tearing at their bellies with his teeth.

The three older daughters laughed as they stood back from the ‘carnage,’ not wanting to get involved.

“Dear, could you hold this?” Nailah asked you and handed you a small, earthenware pot and then opened it.

“What is it?”

“The nit'ir qibe, our food is almost done,” she smiled.

You held it as she scooped some out, stirred it in, and tasted the result. She scooped out some more and repeated her actions. Finally, she took it from you and returned it to its place away from the stove, then added a little salt and tasted it.

“Ah- _hem_!” She yelled over the fake eating noises and laughter.

Everyone, except you because you were already paying attention to her, turned.

 “When you’re done with your show, breakfast it ready.”

Ayo and Folami wriggled in their father’s grasp and M’Baku had to put them down for fear of dropping them. Zola and Ras both went for the utensils and dishes and brought them to the table while Zuni grabbed the napkins and joined her sisters in setting the table. M’Baku handed some cups to Wanda before grabbing more and handing them to Loki. The two of them brought the cups to the table while M’Baku went to the sink and filled a large jug with water before following them in. Nailah gestured to the large pot – which, now that there was a non-giant person standing next to it you finally noticed it was big enough to feed a whole family – and the two of you carried it out the door between you.

After the two of you hefted it onto the table, Loki patted the seat next to him and you sat. Nailah began handing bowls to M’Baku as he filled them with the porridge-like food and passed them along the table. Once everyone had a bowl, he filled one for himself and sat.

As Ayo loudly announced her food was simply _too hot_ to eat, Folami tested hers and made an exaggerated facial expression as if it was scalding. You tried your own – which happened to be from further down in the pot than theirs, and found it to be an edible temperature. As they loudly talked about what they thought the guests should do that day, M’Baku held up a hand until they stopped speaking.

“It turns out our friends received a call from Shuri asking them to come back and continue their work, and they will be heading back to the Golden City after lunch.”

Ayo shouted and Folami followed her lead as they both protested vehemently against the very idea. You and Wanda – and _especially_ Loki: The Man from Space – had to stay longer so they could show you the mountains and take you see the gorillas that lived on the other slopes. M’Baku argued loudly back – giving no illusion to the idea of where the two of them got their personality from – that you had to leave to save the world and they finally quieted down.

In the din of the argument, Ras and Zuni exchanged a look that seemed to be both disappointed and a little jealous, jealous at their younger sisters for having hogged all your time.

As the room returned to a volume that was appropriate for human ears, you spoke up.

“We have until after lunch—” which caused the two youngest to erupt into loud ideas of how your time should be spent. You raised your hand sternly, palm facing them as if you were commanding their silence.

You weren’t sure if it was your grave facial expression or the fact that you were their beloved guest that made them clam up.

Loki raised an eyebrow, impressed.

“Now, I was told that Ras was a sculptor and Zuni was a historian.” You turned to them, “I would like to see your sculptures, and hear about the history of the Jabari people, if you don’t mind. Could we impose upon your time until lunch?”

They looked at each other and smiled.

“Yes,” Ras answered.

Zuni nodded.

“Then we have settled it, we will spend our last day with Ras and Zuni. The rest of you are invited, of course, but I will hear no arguments against our plans.”

Ayo and Folami sat back down in their seats. They tried to hide it, but you could tell they were at least a little peeved at not being the sole deciders of the day’s events, especially since they had gotten to be so yesterday. They each started to eat their breakfast and stayed mostly quiet for the rest of their time at the table.

M’Baku nodded at you appreciatively, while Nailah smiled at you knowingly.

 

* * *

 

The two youngest began to perk up again once everyone had dressed and convened in the ‘gallery,’ a room set aside for Jabari art which also housed Ras’ sculptures. During breakfast, Ras and Zuni had decided that it was fitting to have Zuni’s impromptu talk about the history of the Jabari in the gallery as well because then she could show examples of Jabari art as she spoke.

Her lecture, and you really did feel as if you were back at college listening to a lecture by a seasoned pro, was lengthy but interesting. It was well-paced as if she had practiced it many times before and yet was still fresh and interesting as everyone laughed at her small jokes peppered throughout.

After the history of the Jabari people, Ras then took the floor to show off her sculptures and explain her technique and inspiration. Her art was modernist and traditional at the same time and you found it thoroughly interesting. It reminded you of art you had seen that came from the latter part of the Harlem Renaissance. After her presentation, Ras invited you all to walk around the sculptures and offered to answer any questions you might have.

“While Ras and Zuni are probably the most quiet of our five girls,” Nailah said quietly as she caught up to you, “they are just as creative and intelligent as their louder sisters.”

You smiled. “Not all have to be loud to be known. Some people are quiet but their work, their creativity and passion, speaks for itself and it does so loudly.”

She returned the smile.

“Am I right in thinking that Ayo and Folami take after M’Baku while Ras and Zuni take after you?”

She chuckled. “M’Baku was _wild_ when he was a young boy. Sometimes I’m surprised he’s made it to the age he is now.”

“Reckless, was he?”

“Reckless, brash, headstrong; take all the traits normally associated with men and amplify them into the worst versions of themselves, that was him as a young man.”

“What changed him?”

“Oh, he was like that until very recently. It was only when T’Challa showed him mercy when he challenged his right to the throne and my husband showed compassion back that he finally seemed to change his mind about the world outside the peaks of the Jabari mountains."

“That’s good then. Life it so much nicer when everyone is peaceful.”

She nodded. "Though he was more headstrong in his youth, he has always had a strong sense of purpose.”

You watched Zola for a moment as she walked past, looking at the sculpture. You whispered to Nailah, “Does Zola have anything she wants to show us before we leave?”

Nailah smiled. “Why don’t you ask?”

You walked over to her, followed by her mother. “Zola?”

She looked up.

“Your interest in agriculture, is there anything that you’d like to show us before we leave? All of your sisters have.”

She looked at the rest of the group before smiling.

 

* * *

 

“Oh my god,” you breathed as you followed her into a large room. The room was filled with green; plants you recognized, plants you didn’t recognize, all growing despite the snowy altitude they were in.  “How did you do this?”

Loki and Wanda followed you into the room, equally as astonished by the sight of so much green in the reaches of such a desolate landscape. M’Baku, Nailah, and their other children followed behind them.

“Once my father became friends with King T’Challa, I asked Shuri if she would be able to manufacture these large panes of glass you see here.”

She gestured and you put out your hand, to find your fingertips stopped by the glass you hadn’t realized was there.

“It was so clear I didn’t see it—you’ve made a greenhouse,” you said happily.

She nodded, smiling. “Wakanda gets plenty of sun because of it’s proximity to the equator, all I had to do was trap the heat.”

“It’s so simple,” Wanda said.

“And so efficient,” Loki continued. “You don’t even have to leave the mountain for vegetables.”

“Well, it doesn’t produce _nearly_ enough food for all of us, but it does produce many healing herbs we use. Popular ones as well as ones we are trying to conserve.”

“Zola, this is beautiful, completely and utterly,” you said.

She smiled bashfully.

“You should be proud.”

She smiled again, more confidently this time. “I am.”

 

* * *

 

After a delightful lunch where the five daughters of M’Baku and Nailah happily discussed your stay, you, Loki, and Wanda went and packed your bags in preparation of leaving.

Well, you and Wanda packed your bags, Loki just hung out as you packed, his items safely stored in the aether.

“You know,” he said looking up from his book, “I could just store all that for you.”

You chuckled. “No offense, but I sort of feel better knowing my belongings are safely in a place where I can see them instead of hidden away in the recesses of reality.”

He laughed.

The three of you took your leave of the Jabari leader and his family, hugs abounded along with teary goodbyes from the youngest two and presents from the other three. Ras gave you and Loki, and Wanda each a small sculpture she had made during your stay, while you were exploring the caves. Zuni gave you each a copy of her first draft of The History of the Jabari People.

Zola gave each of you a small plant that looked somewhat similar to an aloe but was shades of salmon pink. “If you feel nausea, just score a leaf and touch the sap to your tongue. It will subside almost instantly,” she smiled.

“Thank you so much,” you smiled back and hugged her tightly. You held onto your plant as Loki put the book and sculpture into your suitcase and then helped Wanda with hers. “I hope we can get to visit you all again. We had such a lovely time staying with you all, our visit was too short.”

M’Baku smiled as he draped his arm over Nailah’s shoulder. “Next time you decide to come to Wakanda, visit with us again.”

You nodded and the three of your boarded the plane.

“Hi Aneka,” you smiled to the Dora as you got on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Leave a comment if you liked it! :)

**Author's Note:**

> Leave a comment and let me know if you like it! :)


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